Saint Seiya 1. Chapter 1

Rodorio had not changed much since ancient times, a fact everyone who lived there took pride in. Occasionally a guide or history professor who had found out about his place would drag people here but the tourists never stayed long. It was made very clear that they weren't really welcome in this place.

"We can't have them getting to Sanctuary after all," Sara had heard her Grandmother say more than once. "they protect us so it's only fair we keep people like that from being annoying." Then the older woman had sniffed and said, "It's not like they understand anyway." Sara could only nod in agreement with that.

Athena's warriors didn't leave Sanctuary much, but when they did the would sometimes come down and visit the village. Usually they went to the bar or were buying things at the shops and once word got around that they were here, Sara couldn't help going to see who it was. She could always tell a Saint when she saw one. Not they ever wore their armor when they came down to the village. Why would they need too? No one here would dare try to harm a Saint, and even if someone was that crazy there wasn't much they would be able to do to the goddess warriors.

But even without the Cloth, she could tell a Saint by they way they carried themselves, the aura…and sometimes they physical beauty the possessed. It wasn't just female Saints that could be called beautiful, although she saw them too sometimes. They were more intimidating to her than the other Saints. At least with the male Saints she could see their expressions but the female Saints…those silver masks intimidated her.

Besides, it was more fun to giggle over the male Saints. None of the men village would have been able to wear their hair down to their waists they way some of the Saints did and look good. Then again none of the men looked nearly as good as most of the Saints did. When they had been younger she and some of her friends had made a game of running up to some of the Saints and giving them flowers or small gifts, then running off. It been fun to see how the Saints reacted and they used to compare notes on which Saint had looked at who the longest.

Most of them had grown out of that now. Not that it still wasn't fun to flirt with them, but now they actually had to get up the courage to talk to them face to face…

Sara sat on the low wall in front of her Aunt's shop and watched three Saints that had come to town together stand in a small group talking.

"They're staring at us," Ptolemy said as he glanced back at the two girls sitting on the wall. When they saw him looking in their direction, the pretended to be busy with whatever it was they had in their laps, but it was obvious what they were doing. He wondered why everyone always made such a big deal out of it when he came down here. All he was trying to do was shop.

"So? It's not like its' anything new," Asterion said. "People have been staring at us since arrived."

"Most of them are more subtle about it though," Ptolemy glanced at them again. They were whispering together now.

"She wasn't looking at you," Asterion said amusedly, "at least not you specifically."

"Don't read my mind like that!" The Stagitta Saint snapped.

"I wasn't. it was just obvious what you were thinking," Asterion looked over at the girls. "I did check her mind though."

"You're just showing off," Ptolemy growled, "we aren't allowed to use our powers for personal gain, remember?"

"That wasn't for personal gain. It's not like I'm using my abilities to win her over. I wouldn't need them for that."

"And how would you know that?" Moses said suddenly grinning slightly. "You don't have that much more experience with women."

"I have more experience than Ptolemy does," Asterion couched and blushed slightly. "I doubt he's even spoken to a girl."

"No one is that pathetic," Ptolemy growled. "I have and you know that."

"Ordinary girls, not female Saints. There aren't many of those around Sanctuary," Asterion smirked.

Ptolemy crossed his arms. "I still have. It would be hard to not talk to a girl unless you were trying to avoid them."

"I meant that you have never had an actual meaningful conversation with a girl who was not a Saint. Having someone say hello to you or apologize for bumping into you don't count as conversations."

"Why do you keep chaing what you mean? No matter what you say, I have talked to girls who aren't Saints."

"Then prove it," Asterion smirked.

"What in Athena's name are you doing Asterion?" Moses hissed. Neither of the two Saints even looked in his direction.

"How?" Ptolemy asked stubbornly.

"Ask one of our little admirers on a date," Asterion answered, "I think that should be a nice challenge. Unless you don't think you can do it, then we could do something less challenging…"

Ptolemy bristled and glared at Asterion, upset his friend would even think he couldn't do something so trivial. "I can do it," he snapped, before turning. As he neared the two girls, focusing on the one with dark pink hair, he realized that he had no idea what you said in a situation like this. But he could not faulter or back down now.

"Can I ask why you did that?" Moses muttered to the Canes Saint as they watched Ptolemy walk purposely away. Asterion didn't say anything immediately.

"Before we left," was what he said at least, "I heard that Algol had been summoned by the Pope." There were only three reasons the Pope would call for a Saint personally. One was if they had messed up so badly the Pope wished to reprimand them in person, but he also rewarded Saints if they had done very well. Even if the latter was the reason Algol was called up, Asterion knew it wouldn't sit well with the Stigga Saint. If it was because the Pope had decided Algol was fit for another mission though, it would be better if Ptolemy wasn't in sight of the Perseus Saint for a while.

"He'll run back to Sanctuary if he hears about it," Moses said.

"Then we just won't tell him, right?" Asterion gave a pointed glare at Moses. The other Saint nodded. "Besides, this could be amusing."

"Amusing for you maybe, but what about the poor girl he's going to tramatize?"

"Oh, I don't think it'll be that bad…at least not for her." Asterion smirked.

"They aren't Gold Saints, are they?" Her friend Thekla whispered to her. Both of them had taken yarn and needles out with them so it didn't look like they were here just to stare.

"They don't look like the Gold Saints," she whispered back.

"But we haven't _seen _all the gold Saints. Sappho said that Milo told her some Gold Saints almost never leave their temples."

"So? Sappho says a lot of things," Sara scowled, "that doesn't mean they're true." She looked back at the three Saints. "What do you think they came here for?"

"Shopping I think," Thekla propped her chin on her hand. "They would already _be _at the bar if that's where they were going. That's what all the other Saints do."

"That's true," Sara nodded, then quickly pretended to be counting stitches as one of the Saints looked their way, "but they're _Saints._" Warriors for the Goddess who were so powerful they could shatter rock with the least touch….trying to understand them was like trying to understand the gods themselves. At least that was what everyone in the village said when a Saint did something unexpected. Whether it be surprising or those Saints who remembered that the village was indebted to Sanctuary and liked to call in that debt when they came down.

"Do you think what Sappho said is true though? That Lord Milo was actually _flirting _with her?" There was awe in Thekla's voice when she said that. He was a Gold Saint, one of the most powerful and beautiful of Athena's protectors, to have someone like that find you attractive.

"He probably was. But he flirts with everyone, you know that. He was just being nice and Sappho is trying to make everyone pay attention to her ." Sara scowled as she said. Partially it was because she was jealous. She might look at the Gold Saints with longing when they came to the village but she couldn't bring herself to actually talk to them. Ever time she even thought about having one of them looking at her she got tongue tied.

"Well it's working," Thekla said. "Her father was bragging about his daughter catching the eye of a Gold Saint."

"Sappho just likes to spread rumors.." Sara began.

"Ahem," someone cleared his throat loudly. She looked up, and one of the knitting needles slipped from her fingers. There was a Saint standing right in front of her. One of the ones they had been watching. The other two were looking in their direction as well and Thekla dropped what she had been working on and squeaked when she saw that.

"L..lord Saint," she managed to say in greeting. He just stared at her and she wondered what he wanted.

"Do…you come here often?" He said at last.

"Yes," Sara replied without thinking much about it. She heard groans and a few sniggers from the other Saints. It was only then that she realized he had been _hitting _on her and she flushed. The Saint threw a glare at this companions before turning back to her. He cleared his throat again.

"So..umm…" he didn't seem to know what to say. She realized that her perch on the wall actually made her taller than him, and it seemed wrong that she should be above a Saint. Setting the needles and yarn next to her, she slid off the wall.

"Is there something I can do for you, Lord Saint?" She asked, nervously brushing dust of her skirt.

"You could come with me," he said, then seemed to look a bit embarrassed when she flushed. "I mean…would you be willing too…uh…go for a walk with me? Around the village."

"I'll go with you…" she couldn't turn down a request from a Saint after all. A tiny part of her mind was clambering that he could want to do more than walking to her but she pushed it away. He was a Saint after all, he wouldn't try to hurt her. Besides, he'd seemed very happy when she said that.

"Great!" He held out his hand to her. Hesitantly she reached out and took. The Saint grinned gripped her hand tightly. As he pulled her away she glanced back over her shoulder, just as one of the other Saints went up to talk to Thekla.

The Saint didn't say anything for the first few minuets. He was holding her hand a little more tightly than she wished he would but he wasn't actually hurting her. She flushed as they passed several of her neighbors.

"L..lord Saint?" She said when it appeared

"Ptolemy," the Saint answered without turning around.

"Excuse me…?"

"Ptolemy," the Saint repeated, then stopped to look back at her. "It's my name. Not 'Lord Saint'."

"Oh, sorry Lord Ptolemy," she didn't recognize the name but then again she only knew the names of a few of the Gold Saints.

"Why are you apologizing?" Ptolemy asked, "we've never meet before have we?"

"No, I would have remember that," at least she was nearly positives she hadn't meet him before. Meeting a Saint was something she wouldn't forget easily.

"Then don't apologize," he ordered.

She nodded nervously, "Yes Lord Ptolemy." He frowned but then started walking again, pulling her along. After a while she felt she had to speak up again. "Where are we going, Lord Ptolemy?" He stopped walking.

"I…don't really know," he admitted. He turned to look back her. "You're the one from this village. Where do you think we should go? "

"Well…" she tired to come up with anything that could be interesting to a Saint. Nothing came to mind. Rodario wasn't exactly know for it's tourists destinations. "There's a look out on the cliffs that has a nice view of the ocean…" she said hesitantly. It was about the only thing she could think of that he would find intrusting. It was also outside of the village proper. Away from people. And she would be alone. With a man who was a stranger, even if he was a Saint.

"Very well," Lord Ptolemy said, "where's this lookout?" She sighed and told him, and in a few moments there were walking a long the path that lead toward the cliff. As the left they village behind she wasn't sure what else to say to him. He was walking faster than her too and she had to hurry to keep up with him.

She stumbled suddenly, a rock sliding out from under her foot. Only Ptolemy's grip on her hand kept falling all the way down. When she managed to straighten he had stopped and was looking back at her in concern.

"You all right?" He asked . She nodded, embarrassed that she managed to do something so stupid in the presence of a Saint..

"It was just me being clumsy, sorry" she muttered in apology. Ptolemy made sure she was steady on her feet before they started walking again. He slowed down and she was able to walk next to him if she wanted too.

"You were looking at me, right?" Ptolemy said suddenly, startling her. He stopped and looked at her. "Back in the village, you were watching me right?"

"Yes," she had been watching him…and the other two Saints too. She wondered why he wanted to know.

"I knew it," he said satisfied. "Asterion isn't nearly as good as he thinks he is ." When he started walking, he ended up pulling her along with him again. At least they were almost at the look out by now.

There wasn't much at the lookout. Someone had made a long bench for it under the shade of a tree, and there was a magnificent view of the sea. But that was it. _Bringing him here wasn't the best idea I've ever had.._ Unless you were into ocean views there wasn't a lot to do here. She was sure a Saint wouldn't find it that interesting.

"This is…peaceful." Ptolemy let go of her hand. He kept glancing around as he walked over to the bench. She trotted behind him, flexing her fingers to get the blood circulating in them. She hadn't thought of this place as peaceful before. Boring or nice maybe…but she wasn't a Saint. Maybe peace meant more to a warrior. The Saint sat down on the bench, looking around. He turned and smiled at her, "Are you going to stand there all day?" he asked and patted the seat next to him. She blushed and hurried the last few steps to the bench.

Neither of them said anything for a while after they sat down. Sara glanced out him out of the corner of her eye wondering why he had just decided to bring_ her _out here. Thekla had been watching them with her…Ptolemy turned his head slightly to look at her and she realized she had been staring. She quickly looked away and pretended to be examining the letters that someone had carved into the bench. This only lasted the few seconds it took to realized it was a name carved into the wood and that there was another name carved next to it. It was only then that she remembered that the lookout was also a popular place for couples seeking some privacy from the village. She blushed and quickly turned her attention to her hands.

Ptolemy still hadn't said anything either, although he had shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat. Sara finally decided that she had to break the silence.

"What Saint are you?" The question came out far faster and more garbled than she had intended too and she blushed. "I mean, I know you're a Saint but I was just wondering which constellation you were."

"Sagitta," he answered immediately, "I'm the Sagitta Saint."

"Sagitta, that's the…" her mind blanked. She knew some of the constellations but that one didn't sound familiar to her and she felt stupid because of that. Maybe she should have learned more about the starts that were connection to the warriors that protected the village.

"It's the arrow constellation," Ptolemy said after a long pause. He sounded disappointed. "It's by Sagittarius."

"Oh. I'll be sure to look for it tonight," was the only thing she could think of to say. They lapsed back into an uncomfortable silence for a minute or so. She cleared her throat. "Umm…why where you in town today? Saints don't usually come down here without a reason."

"I had some shopping to do," Ptolemy answered. "You can only get the basics in Sanctuary, so if you want anything else you have to come here for it."

"What did you buy?" She asked as she looked around him for a bag or something even though she was sure he hadn't been carrying anything, a bit curious as to what Saints actually ate.

"Nothing yet," Ptolemy mumbled and looked embarrassed. "You kind of distracted me."

"Oh," Sara said, unsure of how she was suppose to respond to that.

"I probably should finish shopping soon," Ptolemy continued. "The Pope doesn't like it when we spend a lot of time away from Sanctuary."

"So even Saints get in trouble for being late?" A Saint being punished like a child was a strange concept.

"Not really. It's more like it's looked down on if you spend too much time away from Sanctuary," Ptolemy explained. "We're suppose to be protecting Athena but we can't do that if not there. If people start noticing that you aren't in Sanctuary much and you aren't on missions they kind of start to talk, and that's not the kind of reputation you want."

"I think I can understand that," Sara looked up and watched the sunlight play through the leaves of the tree they sat under. "Athena is the reason you Saints exist. You don't want to disappointed her."

"That's kind of a simple way of putting but I guess you could say that," Ptolemy said, then sighed.

"Is being a Saint complicated?" She said a loud before she had really thought about what she was going to ask.

"Sometimes," he said looking down at the ground, frowning. Sara looked over at him, suddenly worried she had brought up something she wasn't suppose to .

"Sorry, I guess I shouldn't bring up things like that," she said. Ptolemy looked back up at her in surpise.

"Uh, no, I don't mind," he said. "It's just that I'm not used to talking to people who have to ask questions like that."

"Oh," It made sense that he would be talking most to Saints. She wondered if her question seemed stupid to him. She looked away from him then glanced out over the ocean where the sun was…much lower the sky than she remembered it being. She jumped suddenly remembering that tonight was her turn to help with dinner and she wouldn't have time to make anything if she didn't make it home.

"Hey, you okay?" Sara turned to face Ptolemy. He looked concerned and she couldn't really blame him.

"Sorry, I just remembered something that I ha.." her brain kicked in, reminded her that she was with a Saint and she could bet that this was one of the few reasons her mother would take for being late. "Never mind, I can stay if you want. It's not that big of a deal."

Ptolemy sighed and rubbed the back of his head, looking a bit like he wanted to say something then be stood. "It's all right," he said.

"Are you sure? If you don't want me to go yet…"

"I said it was all right, didn't I?" Ptolemy said annoyed. He grabbed her hand and started to pull her back toward the village. This time he wasn't walking as fast though, and she was able to keep up even though she still lagged a bit behind. He didn't say anything though, only this time she was worried because he was mad and she got nervous. She hadn't mean to offend him or anything like that. Then he spoke up, startling her. "What's your name? I don't think I got it yet." Ptolemy stopped and looked back at her. It took her a few seconds to find her tongue again at the sudden question.

"It's Sara," she managed at last. He smiled slightly.

"That's a nice name," he said then started walking again. She hurried to keep up, feeling a little guilty over mentioning leaving to him. She would have gotten out of helping with dinner if they had stayed behind too.

It didn't take that long to reach the village. They both stopped once the reached the place where they had meet. Ptolemy let go of her hand and they turned to stare at each other. Neither of them said anything for a while.

"Will you be all right?" Ptolemy said at last. "You didn't have to be back home by now or anything?"

"It's fine," she answered. "It was just later than I thought and I promised that I would help with dinner.."

"I guess I should finish buying stuff too," Ptolemy said. There was silence for a while.

"I should be getting home now," Sara said and stepped backwards.

"All right," Ptolemy said, "Bye.."

"Yeah, um, bye," Sara took another step back, then turned to leave paused. She didn't want to leave it like this. "Lord Ptolemy?" She called and looked back over her shoulder at him. The Saint had started to leave as well, but he had stopped and was looking back at her. "It was nice meeting you." She blushed as she said the words, although she could see why. Then she turned and hurried away, suddenly too shy to look back and see how he reacted.

She only slowed and stopped after she was around the corner. Something in her urged her to go back and peak around the corner to see if he was still there. They had just meet, there as no one some like a Saint would be staring longingly after her no matter how much her ego wanted him to be. Sara took a deep breath and headed home.

When she walked the back door that lead to the kitchen, Thekla pounced on her looking far to excited.

"Whathappenedwhathappened?" Her friend demanded breathlessly. "Did he do anything? Did _you _do anything?"

"Let her say something Thekla," Sara heard her mother says as she pushed past Thekla into the kitchen. Her mother looked up from where she was pealing potatoes. "So, was he really a Saint or was Thekla just overreacting again?"

"No, she wasn't for once," Sara answered as she ignored Thekla's angry squeak. "He said he was a Saint and I don't think he was lying."

"Of course he wasn't, what sort of fool would dare to come up with a lie like that?" her mother said as she worked.. "Besides, everyone knows those there were Saints. It was all over the village!"

"After you left BOTH of others came up to me! I didn't know what to say and one of them was missing an _eye. _Where did you go anyway?" Thekla butted in, grabbing her hand. "You disappeared for _ages_! He didn't do anything to you did he?"

"Of course not!" Sara said hastily. "We just went out to the lookout and talked for a while, that's it."

"Ohh, the lookout," Thekla raised her eyebrows, "I thought you said it was nothing?"

"I said nothing happened!" Sara half shouted as she felt heat rise in her cheeks. "He just wanted to talk for a while, that's all."

"But that's boring," Thekla said and dropped into a chair, resting her chin on her hands. "He won't really remember you for just _talking._"

"So what if he doesn't?" Sara said stubbornly. "He's a Saint, it's not like he's going to see me again."

"If you had made an impression on him, you might." Her mother said turning toward her, hands on hips. "A Saint comes to you and you didn't make an effort to be charming to him? You should have made him interested!"

"But…"

"No buts." Was her mother's firm reply. "Having a Saint interested will show everyone that while you might not be as beautiful as the servants, you're still equal to them!"

The Servants was the name most of the town used to describe the woman who Gigas, Chief of Staff of Sanctuary came down and choose to serve the Pope himself. It hadn't escaped the notice of anyone that he only chose young, extremely beautiful women. There were rumors of the real reason they had been chosen but they had served the leader of Sanctuary. The women who had been allowed to come back down to the village were very respected.

Despite all that Sara was glad she wasn't a raging beauty. She did not want to be hauled away from her family to serve an old man whose face you couldn't see. Maybe it was a bit disrespectful to think that way, but she didn't care and it wasn't like she voiced those thoughts allowed anyway.

"Are you exaggerating just a little?" Sara muttered.

"Speak up when you're talking to someone," was the reply, "and I am not. There's honor in serving the Sanctuary, even like they did, but to have a Saint coming to _you_? Even they didn't have that."

"It's not like I'm ever going to see him again though," Sara said, "he's probably forgotten all about me by now."

Ptolemy took a bite of the apple the shop owner had shoved at him as he had left and readjust the string that supported the small bag he had found to carry his purchases. He savored the taste of the fruit. Sanctuary supported the' provide for yourself life' lifestyle and while there were fruit trees in Sanctuary proper, but everyone raided those so there usually wasn't much there. Saints didn't get paid much, so everyone tried to stretch what they did get even if it wasn't by much.

He glanced back at the village as he hopped a rise and the words from that villager girl, Sara, echoing in his head. _"Being a Saint is complicated, isn't it?" _It shouldn't be. Wasn't he just suppose to protect Athena and the Sanctuary with his life? It wasn't suppose to be about being chained here because the Pope wouldn't give him any missions since he was one of the younger Silver Saints and didn't have any showy attacks. He wasn't the strongest Silver Saint but he wasn't weak either.

He barely noticed when he entered Sanctuary, he was so wrapped up in this thoughts. _It's just because my Cloth doesn't have any obvious special features. It's powerful but you have to use it right! Sagitta's attack isn't something you can just throw around in the middle of a battle! _

"What, did you get the girl mad at you or something?" Ptolemy blinked, then took a second to see Moses leaning against a rock. "I told you moving to fast would be a bad idea."

"I didn't get her mad," the younger Saint said. "She seemed happy went home anyway."

"Oh? So you're date was actually a success? Asterion will be surprised. He said you would probably do something stupid to her." Moses came to walk beside him.

"I'm not that pathetic! I can talk with a girl without messing up!"

"Hey, that's what Asterion said, not me!" Moses said quickly, then gave the younger Saint a curious look. "So, what was she like?"

"She was…nice," Ptolemy said thoughtful as he chewed another mouthful of apple. "and cute, too I guess. She was looking at me though, I asked her."

"You sure she just wasn't being nice when she said that?" Moses smirked. Ptolemy glared at him.

"At least I did better than you," the Stagitta Saint shot back. Moses winced.

"I tried! But that friend of your girl just kind of freaked out when Asterion and I tried to talk to her."

"She probably thought you were a Cyclopes and had chosen her as your next meal."

"Very funny," Moses muttered dryly. They walked in silence for a while. As they neared his the area were the Saint accommodations were, Ptolemy began to wonder why Moses had come to meet him. He wasn't unhappy about seeing his friend, it was just a little odd for the whale Saint.

"What's going on?" he asked. Moses was silent, then looked away.

"I thought it would be better if you heard if from a friend first…Algol was sent off on another mission."

The rest of the apple shattered as Ptolemy closed his fist around it. "Again?" he said soflty. "He got _another one?" _

"_Ptolemy, you know why he keeps getting them," Moses said patiently. _

"_He's not stronger or any better than me! I can even beat him a little over half the time when we don't have our Cloths on! If he didn't have that shield.." _

"_But he does have the shield," Moses cut him off. "It's powerful, even you have to admit that much." _

"_Sagitta's arrows are powerful too!" Ptolemy protested. _

"_Turning people to stone is a lot more dramatic than just shooting someone and leaving them to die." Moses pointed out. _

"_That doesn't mean it's better," the Sagitta Saint argued. _

"_I didn't say it was!" was the reply. "I'm just trying to say that Algol is just likely to be noticed more." _

_Ptolemy grumbled under his breath. He didn't like being reminded of that. Algol always seemed to push ahead of him even when it wasn't deserved. Moses must have noticed the look on his face because he sighed. _

"_Don't think too much about. You'll get to do something that will make even the Pope forget about Algol." _

"_As long as that happens soon," Was all that Ptolemy said. _

_It was full night and Sara was getting ready for bed when she happened to glance out the window as the stars and she remembered her promise to Ptolemy. Well, not exactly a promise but he had made her curious since she hadn't heard of the constellation before. Almost every house in the village had a book about the stars. With the Saints so nearby it just made sense too. It only took a few minuets for her to find the book. Wrapping a blanket around her shoulders, she opened her window and perched on the windowsill before she opened the book and started to scan the pages. The Saints were the protectors of the village. Maybe it was time she learned the names of the constellations that represented them. _


	2. Chapter 2

-1There was a clatter in one of the small shacks that severed as housing for the Saints. Ptolemy grumbled and picked up the bowl he had dropped, echoing the growing of his stomach. He eyed the meager assortment of food he had left and sighed. He was hungry _now _but unless he wanted to try the old bread that was starting to look moldy, he was out of luck.

Maybe he should have gone shopping earlier. He had some free time then, maybe he should have used it. Now it was either miss lunch and starve or go beg food off of someone else.

"Starving isn't a fitting end for a Saint," he muttered to himself and went to look for someone who be willing to share. Asterion wasn't at home but that was hardly a surprise. He was probably down supervising trainees. Testing the new trainees before they were handed off to someone who would train them for a Cloth was one of Asterion's duties and he was good at. But that left him with little time to just hang around doing nothing.

Moses also wasn't home. _He _could be anywhere since he didn't have any official duties in Sanctuary. Aside from the patrols around the perimeter that the Pope had the all Saints run, there were only a few Saints who were given specific duties. Right now Moses was probably off training somewhere. His stomach growled again and Ptolemy seriously considered sneaking into Asterion's kitchen. The Hound Saint always had extra and should be willing to share. But he had done that once before and Asterion had gotten mad at him. He had felt guilty about doing things like that anyway, so he decided against the idea. Instead he decided to go bug Asterion himself. Maybe the Hound Saint would be willing to share whatever he had for lunch with him.

The training ground for the new trainees were at the edge of Sanctuary. This was the children brought in would be trained for a year or two as the learned Greek and the basic physical strength to become Saints. Then the ones that showed promise would be handed over to more permanent Masters. Asterion was a good at getting results and that was why he had been posted there.

The shouts and occasional cries of childish voices greeted him as he made his way over to the training ground. Not all of the noise as in Greek either, since half of the children here couldn't even speak if fluently yet. As he neared he noticed Asterion moving among the trainees, correcting a punch or kick there, shifting the stance of another. He wasn't being as rough as he could be with them, but Asterion knew he was being far from gently. Coddling the trainees would only mean death. At least his friend took a break, stepping away from the trainees.

"They look good," Ptolemy said conversationally as he went to join his friend.

"Not really," Asterion answered, surveying the group. "They just sent in a batch of new recruits. I've got the older ones working with them for now, but later on I'll have to pair them against one another to later on. Then you'll see that they really aren't that great yet. Now…" the Hound Saint turned his gaze on his friend. "What do you want?"

"Nothing really," Ptolemy answered as he tried to work out a way to get to the topic of food. "I was just curious what you were doing. Moses isn't home either, so I thought he might be down here with you…"

Asterion leveled a searching glare at the other Saint, then sighed and turned back to the trainees. "No," he said firmly.

"What…?" Ptolemy asked slightly confused.

"No, I'm not giving you anything. It's your own fault if you were too lazy to take care of things." Asterion said as he watched the children. "You're a Saint, Ptolemy, you can take care of yourself."

"But you're my friend! Aren't friends suppose to support each other?"

"Not when said friend is leeching off of them. Again. This isn't the first time you've done this Ptolemy!" Asterion turned and look at him. "I'm tired to covering for you. Go get your own food!"

"I'm starving here Asterion! Just give me something until I can go into town!" Ptolemy pleaded. His stomach growled and he gave Asterion a glance, hoping the Hound Saint would be sympathetic to him. Asterion just shook his head.

"You're a Saint, you won't starve just because you skip a meal. If you had planned ahead then you wouldn't be going through this, would you? Moses and I both told you what would happened if you kept putting off shopping," Asterion said firmly. "I'm not bailing you out again."

"Come on Asterion, just one more time?"

"No," Asterion said once more, then turned to glare at him. "Would you stop acing like you're suffering? You're a Saint. A walk into town, even on an empty stomach, should be easy for you. If it's not than I think we'll be looking for someone else to wear the Stagitta Cloth."

"Just because I can doesn't mean I should have to. Can't you give me a snack or something?"

"No Ptolemy," Asterion snapped in a very final tone of voice. Ptolemy waited for a few more minuets but when Asterion showed all the signs of being absorbed in his students again, Ptolemy left. He would try to find Moses, then if that didn't work he would go to town. It was unfair though.

"Apparently your Saint didn't think much of you," Sappho intoned with a small, false smile. Sara smiled…and again reminded herself that she could not snap at, insult, or start fights with customers of her Aunts shop while she was helping out. Not that she had any problems with those rules normally, they had been created with her brother and her cousins in mind, but she was very well aware Sappho knew of those rules and that was why she was here now. "I mean, know one has even _seen _him since he left on that date with you."

"He's a Saint, I'm sure he has better things to do then visit our little village," Sara responded neutrally. She would have loved to do to distract herself from the Sappho's chatter, but the other girl hadn't made a move to buy anything. She had only fluttered around examining things and throwing out occasional barbs. Sara was sure this was some sort of revenge. The day after her walk with Ptolemy she had a least half a dozen people stopping her to ask what had happened. It had been bigger news than Sappho's bragging that she had flirted with Milo. Even the news that the Scorpio Saint had told her she was beautiful a few days ago hadn't made much of impact, or at least not as much of impact as the taller girl had wanted.

"Oh, I don't know about that. Lord Milo and some of the other Saints are here much more often," Sappho said in an airy manner. "I suppose there must be a reason he doesn't want to come down here. I wonder if you did something?"

"Lord Ptolemy seemed happy with my company. I don't see how that could be the problem," she replied as pleasantly as she could, hoping Sappho would hurry up.

"Maybe that was the problem. You must not have been that interesting if he forgot about you. That must be the reason he hasn't come around recently. What do you suppose that could be?"

Sara forced a smile on her face and wondered if the old adage 'your face will stick that away' applied to situations like this as well . "Oh I don't know, maybe it's better this way. It's not like any Saint would really be interested in a simple village girl."

"There are plenty of Saints who have been interested in village girls!" Sappho snapped defensively. "My own family has the blood of Saints in, so I know it's entirely possible!"

"Possible, but I don't think it's likely. After all, Sanctuary has already taken all the girls in the village that could possible interest a Saint," Sara said, still smiling. Sappho bristled.

"There are plenty of girls who are interesting to a Saint!" The taller girl snapped then suddenly lifted her head. "Just because you failed to hold the interest of whatever Saint it was that took pity on you doesn't mean the rest of us are also incapable of being charming."

"Really? Because I could have sworn you were spending an awful lot of time being charming to Lord Milo but he still doesn't seem to notice…" Sappho started to swell with indignation.

"Sara!" Her Aunt's sharp bark made her jump and look guilty at the older woman who was coming out of the back of the shop. Sappho looked smug. Her Aunt shoved a broom into her hand. "I need you to sweep the porch outside," the older woman ordered than added in an undertone, "Stop letting her get a raise out of you! You're old enough to know better!" Her aunt gave her a shove and Sara headed outside. She heard a snicker from Sappho, but her aunt asking the other girl if she could help her drowned out anything else she might have said.

Outside, Sara brushed angrily at the wooden boards of the porch right outside the shop. She knew all she was doing was flinging dust everywhere but she didn't care. Sappho was so annoying! Did stupid things like who was more important really matter to her? It wasn't like she had been _trying _ to out do her or anything! She was so preoccupied with her thoughts she didn't even notice someone coming up to the store.

"Hey, it's you!" Someone said in surprise. She looked up startled to find Lord Ptolemy standing in front of at the edge of the porch. "Umm…Sara, right?" All she could do was nod dumbly before she glanced at the doorway and noticed that Sappho was still inside.

"It's nice to see you again Lord Ptolemy!" She said much louder than she needed too.

"Umm…nice to see you too.." Lord Ptolemy said looking a bit startled. "So this is where you live?"

"No, this is just my Aunts store. I help out here sometimes," she explained to him, feeling a rush of satisfaction when she noticed Sappho peering out of the store looking a little annoyed. "So what brings you here, Lord Ptolemy?"

"Just some shopping again," he said and held up the empty bag he was carrying. "I need some…" a loud growl interrupted him. Sara stared and he blushed at the sound.

"Lord Ptolemy…was that your stomach?" She could help but giggle a bit, which caused him to blush harder.

"I've just been too busy too make a trip here lately!" He said a bit defensively. She knew it was rather rude to be giggling at a Saint but he looked so embarrassed it wasn't hard forget that he was a Lord Saint right now.

"Have you had anything at all to eat today?" She had to ask him. It was hard to think of a Saint being as being so disorganized.

"I had breakfast," Ptolemy muttered, "….I just haven't had lunch yet…"

"And Sara was just about to go on her own lunch break," Sara hadn't even known her Aunt was behind her until she spoke. The unexpected voice caused her to jump and she looked back at her Aunt startled.

"I was…?" She said, a little confused. Normally her Aunt didn't let her take a break until later in the day.

"Of course you were, did you loose track of time?" Her Aunt said in her kindest tone of voice. "Go get your lunch from the kitchen and you can share it. It would be fair to leave a Lord Saint to starve!"

"You don't have to…" Lord Ptolemy said, but he didn't really sound like he was trying to stop them and had perked up when she mentioned sharing.

"Oh its our pleasure…you wait here, she'll be right out." Sara found herself being pushed into the store and toward the kitchen, passing by a shocked looking Sappho.

"But I don't have anything here…" Sara hissed. Normally she just went back home to eat lunch once her Aunt decided she could take a break.

"There are sandwiches in the kitchen…bring them out to him," Her aunt hissed at her. "He's a Saint! He remembered you, now make him think you're at least somewhat interesting!

"How am I suppose to do that?"

"Think of something!" Her Aunt gave her a last shove through the door that lead into the house that was attached to the shop. Sara turned to glare at the older woman, but she had already walked away. Grumbling a bit she headed into the kitchen. It was true that she couldn't just leave Lord Ptolemy standing around out there although she had no clue what would make her interesting to him. Her Aunt had just left the sandwiches on a plate on the counter. She grabbed it and headed back out to the front of the shop.

Sappho was outside when she reached there, standing on the porch and smiling at Lord Ptolemy. "So I'm sure my mother would be happy to make something…." the taller girl was saying as she walked out. Sara nearly growled. How dare she! She just couldn't let anyone else have the spotlight, could she? Luckily for her, her Aunt had been watching the whole thing from the doorway. She couldn't actually stop Sappho from speaking with him, but when she saw her coming back, the older woman had a reason to intervene.

"That's a very kind offer but Sara is already back and it wouldn't do to make the Lord Saint wait anymore, now would it Sappho?" Her Aunt said. As she walked forward Lord Ptolemy seemed to perk up and actually smiled at her.

"Those look good!" He said, looking very happy. Sara flushed, a bit embarrassed.

"I didn't…," she started to say but her Aunt elbowed her slightly.

"Why don't you find the Lord Saint somewhere comfortable to eat?"

"What about the kitchen?" Her Aunt elbowed her a little again.

"I'll need to remake lunch. And it will be easier to keep little miss nosey occupied if she doesn't know where you are!" The older woman hissed at her, smiled at Lord Ptolemy and as she gave her a shove toward him. She stumbled slightly but managed to keep the tray straight. She gave her Aunt a last glare before going to join Lord Ptolemy, who was looking slightly confused.

"Umm…if you'll come with me Lord Ptolemy.." She said, thinking as fast as she could. There were benches around the fountain in the square…it would mean being in the center of attention for a while but she could deal with that. Better than remaining under Sappho's jealous eye.

One they reached the fountain she stopped by one of the benches. "…Have a seat Lord Ptolemy," she said. He did, giving her a rather intent look as she sat down and placed the plate between them. She was blushing until she realized it wasn't really her he was watching, it was the plate. "Help yourself…" he had grabbed one before she had even finished speaking. She stared, then giggled and took a sandwich for herself. They ate in silence for a while, although she was only nibbling. He didn't seem to noticed that the people who passed by were at least pausing to give them a second look. It wasn't everyday you saw a Saint eating with someone from the village and they were always looking for something interesting to talk about.

There was the familiar silence for a while, but at least it wasn't as awkward this time. Still, she felt she had to say something to him.

"I looked for your constellation," she muttered as he ate. Lord Ptolemy looked over at her and gave her a slightly confused look. "Last time I saw you, I said I would look it up," she said quickly, wondering if he had forgotten and feeling foolish. He looked thoughtful for a second.

"You really did that?" He looked at and actually smiled, "Did you find it?"

"…No," she admitted, embarrassed. "I think I was looking in the wrong direction. I was having trouble finding most of the constellations though!" She added hastily when she saw his smile drop a little. "It's kind of confusing trying to see pictures in all the stars." She wondered if that was a good thing to stay to a Saint, who depended on the stars to protect them.

"It is kind of confusing at first, but you get the hang of it after a while," Lord Ptolemy said. "I had a little bit of trouble seeing them at first. After a while they'll become easier to see," then he gave her smile again. "You'll get it soon."

"I'm sure I will.." She trailed off as she took a bite of her sandwich. They ate in silence for a while longer then she spoke up. "Um..Lord Ptolemy?"

"Hmm..?" He paused in reaching for another sandwich.

"Your name…I found it in the book of constellations. The man who named the constellations was called Ptolemy. Are you named after him?" She looked over at him in curiously and he looked pleased.

"Yes, I am!" He picked up another sandwich. "I always thought the name Ptolemy sounded nice, and even today people remembered him. Since I want my name to be remembered too, I decided to call myself Ptolemy when I became a Saint."

"You choose your own name?" Sara said in surprise. Ptolemy nodded, taking a bite and swallowing before answering.

"Yeah. Most Saints choose to take a new name when they earn their Cloths," he explained. "My Master once told me it was a tradition started to show that you're a different person than you were before you started training as a Saint."

"That's interesting.." Sara took a bite of her sandwich, watching Lord Ptolemy. "So all Saints have different names than the ones they had before?"

"Most of us do," Lord Ptolemy said. "But it's not required so a few times a Saint decides that the name they were given was fine so they keep it."

"So you didn't like your birth name?" she couldn't help asking.

"It's not that I didn't like it…but it didn't seem right anymore. I wasn't the child who had started training to be a Saint, so I picked a name that I thought fit me better,"

"Ptolemy does suit you," Sara agreed, thinking that it really did fit him in an odd way. Saints weren't normal, so it made sense that they would choose names that were different from most people.

"Thanks!" Ptolemy looked pleased when she said that, "Um….Sara's a really nice name too."

"Thank you…" she had never really thought about her name before. It wasn't really memorable in anyway, and if anything it was boring. Hearing someone say it was nice felt good, even though she was sure Lord Ptolemy was only saying it to be polite. "That's really nice of you to say."

"Uh, you're welcome. Umm…these are really good," he waved at the plate, which was now almost empty.

"Thank you," she said, although she felt uncomfortable taking credit for her Aunt's work. But if she came clean she had a sneaking suspicion that her Aunt would be mad at her if she did admit that. The merest chance that a Saint found her interesting was to good to pass up for her family. It was something they could brag about to everyone else. Really, she didn't mind that much. Ptolemy was nice in his own way and he was certainly a lot better looking than the rest of the village boys…. "It must be nice to be able to choose your own name though."

"I guess it is," Lord Ptoemly said as he took a bite. "I never really thought about it before."

"You haven't?" That was something of a surprise to her. "But you get to choose your own name, isn't that kind of exciting?"

"I guess?" Lord Ptolemy looked over at her. "I was more excited about actually earning my cloth then the name thing."

"Oh. I guess that would make sense.." she nibbled at her sandwich. "What was it like, becoming a Saint?" Lord Ptolemy lit up at that.

"It was the proudest day of my life! After everything, the training the fights, all of it, I finally got to prove that I was worthy of wearing the Sagitta Cloth! I was finally a Saint and I will never forget the feeling of finally being able to kneel in front of the Pope and declare myself a Saint," he was speaking so excitedly and was almost beaming. She tried to imagine ever being able to be that close to the Pope and what it must be like.

It didn't' work. She didn't even know what the Pope looked like. Actually seeing such a powerful figure was beyond her.

"That's amazing.." she said, not really sure if she was talking about Saints or being able to see the Lord Pope everyday. There were only a few people in the village who had been granted that privilege and the majority of those were his over servants.

"It is. I earned the rank of one of the strongest warriors in the world, worthy to stand by Athena herself!" Lord Ptolemy looked very pleased with himself and she had to smile a little.

"So I should be honored to be able to eat lunch with a Saint?" She said slightly teasingly. He looked at her in surprise then smiled back.

"Well it as an honor to…um…have lunch with..a pretty girl?" He grinned nervously at her. When he did that he didn't look like a Saint at all. He was just another boy like that, although one that served the goddess. The change, and his words made her gigigle and his grin gained a little more confidence.

"Thanks for the meal, I was _starving_."

It was only when he gestured at the plate that she realized it was empty and she hadn't even noticed. That had been enough to feed her Aunts entire family there. She couldn't imagine how he had eaten all of that so quickly. "It was nothing, I hoped you liked it."

"I already said it was really good, didn't I?" He actually smiled, handing the plate back to her, "you didn't have to keep me company, if you didn't want to."

"But I did want to," she said, smiling. It was true, kind of. He had been interesting when she had last meet him and even though she hadn't been sure she wanted to sit through another awkward conversation with him, but she had enjoyed herself in the end.

"Really?" he looked happy about it as they stood up. She took the plate from him when he picked it up and held it out to her, then nodded shyly. They stood that way for a few awkward moments before Lord Ptolemy sighed. "I guess I should buy something. I can't keep stealing food from you."

"It's not stealing, it was a gift," she said smiling.

"Still…, I came down here to shop anyway," he didn't look very enthusiastic about it.

"Do you want…company?" She wasn't sure that she wanted to go shopping with him, food shopping was boring and she didn't like him _that _much, but her Aunt would probably be mad if she didn't at least offer. Lord Ptolemy paused.

"You would do that?" he said, then smiled. "I don't want you to get in trouble again though. You're Aunt is probably expecting you back."

"I did promise I would be helping her the rest of today," she admitted. That was the truth. She had skipped out once earlier in the week to go to the market with her friends and had felt so guilty that she had said she would work all day today to make up for it. Although she had kind of been regretting promising that earlier, now she was glad it gave her an excuse to bow out gracefully.

"Then you should go back," he said, smiling slightly. "Otherwise your family might start thinking that I'm a bad influence on you."

"They wouldn't ever think that," she assured him, deciding not to add that they would all be thrilled she was spending time with a Saint, as long as she didn't neglect her duty that much.

"Still it would be rude to make you stay with me," he grinned a little. "I hope you parents weren't too hard on you last time."

"They weren't don't worry. Thank you for being so understanding about me having to run off like that," she smiled. Lord Ptolemy smiled back.

"It was nothing. You just wanted to help your family…I can understand. It must be nice…" he trailed off a bit.

"What must be nice?" she asked curiously. Something flash across his face. Loneliness? Sadness? Regret? She couldn't tell before it was gone again and he gave her a rather strained smile.

"Nice to have a family," was all he said. She froze, not sure what to say to that and not sure she wanted to know what he meant. She just nodded instead.

"It is," was all she managed to say. It was the only thing she could think, what else where you suppose to say to something like that? "I suppose I should be getting back then," she took a step backwards.

"Let me walk you back," he said and she nodded again, not being able to deny that. Thankfully it didn't take them that long to reach the entrance to her aunts shop. She stopped in the doorway, then turned to think him. "Thanks again for keeping me company like that," he said first.

"I already said it was nothing," she answered, catching sight of her Aunt peeking out of the doorway out of the corner of her eye. "I hope I didn't bore you or anything."

"You didn't," Lord Ptolemy grinned then he shuffled kind of nervously. "I guess I had better get going,"

"…Have a good day?" she said, unsure just what she was suppose to say now.

"…I will," he answered as he looked at her. "If I come around her again…will you be here?" he asked suddenly.

"Or at least somewhere near here," she answered without thinking. "I mean…my Aunt will know where to find me at least."

"I'll remember that," Lord Ptolemy said. She nodded, wondering what he meant by that as she watched him walk way.

**********

The day, Ptolemy decided, hadn't been to bad really. Aside from Asterion being unfair, things had actually been good. Sara had given him a free lunch, and hadn't been boring or squeal the way some of the other girls where when he talked to her.

Afterwards, when he had been shopping, he had managed to get more than he needed. The villagers insisted on either giving him things or giving him special discounts because he was a Saint. The seemed to do that to all Saints so he was used it. What he wasn't used to was them suddenly asking him questions about how he was doing, his day, and always coming back to his lunch with Sara. He wondered how so many people had found out about it so quickly. It wasn't like they had been hiding it or anything, but it seemed weird that everyone would be so interested. He knew that always made a big deal out of any Saint, but he hadn't realized it was that bad.

He hoped he hadn't damaged her reputation or got her in trouble with her boyfriend. They hadn't done anything but if Rodario was anything like Sanctuary, the gossips were probably already twisting and confusing things to make things more interesting.

Come to think of it, the village really wasn't that different from Sanctuary. The moment something different or interesting happened, everyone seemed to want to know about it and made a big deal out of everything. He shrugged it off as he reached his hut and put everything away, heading out to the training grounds when he was done.

There wasn't much else to do in the Sanctuary, so most of it's inhabitants would be found down watching or participating in the fights. A usual crowd was gathered by the time he made it down. Several of the trainees and guards called respectful greetings as he reached the main arena. Other Saints just nodded and turned back to the various fights scattered across the are arena floor.

Most of these were little more than practice bouts between trainees or guards. Ptolemy stopped to watch a fight between two of the more skilled trainees. They looked familiar and he tried to place them as he judged their skill. One of them might become a Saint someday, and it would be worth it to know something about his comrades in arms. He thought the more skilled one might be one of Cancer Deathmask's students, but he couldn't be sure. Trainees weren't people he normally dealt with unless it was clear they had an actually _chance _of earning a Cloth. There were too many trainees that failed each day for most to bother learning much about them.

The two in this match appeared to be at least worthy of consideration. He could feel a spark of cosmo from them both, and that was something that not ever trainee had. Ptolemy crossed his arms, trying to remember the names of the trainees and he thought he almost had once when he caught sight of a familiar face that was also watching the fight.. Immediately the fight faded from his mind and he tensed in anger.

_Algol_. He hadn't known the Perseus Saint was back yet from his mission yet. There was that annoyingly superior smirk on his face that indicated his mission had been another success. Fingernails dug into his arms but he ignored the pain. He didn't see why everyone seemed to think Algol was a better Saint. Given the smallest _chance_ he could prove he was just as good as the other Saint was. But over and over again the Pope choose to pass over him for Algol of all people. His attack might take a while longer than most other Saints to work but given enough time his arrows were suppose to even be able to take down a _god_. Why couldn't the Pope just give him a chance? That was all he needed….

Ptolemy was so absorbed in this thoughts that he didn't even notice when the fight ended and one of the trainees was lead off in congratulation by his fellows. As the crowd thinned, Algol looked away from the fight. Their eyes meet and he smirked. For a moment they just stayed that way, then Algol walked over to him.

"What are you looking at?" the Perseus Saint said, that arrogant voice of his making Ptolemy tense even more.

"So you're back," Ptolemy said snapped.

"I am," Algol said agreeably, "I finished my mission earlier than expected. The Pope was impressed."

"Good for you," Ptolemy said sharply, turning to walk away. Then Algol spoke up again.

"Of course, it was simple mission. Even someone like you _might _have been able to pull it off…eventually," he said. Ptolemy froze and then whirled around to face him.

"What makes you think you're so much better than me? Given the chance I could outdo you every time!" He snapped at the other Saint.

Algol smirked, crossing his arms. "But you're never going to get that chance, are you? No one is going to want to risk something saving your target while those twelve hours go by , not when there's a choice to have them dead the moment they lay eyes on me."

"Nothing but Lady Athena's power can destroy the golden arrow of Stagitta!" he half-shouted back. "A Saint isn't just his cloth anyway, and without yours I'm more than a match for you!"

Algol laughed. "Do you really believe that? Listen to yourself!"

"Without your cloth I can take you easily!" Ptolemy growled. Algol tossed his hair.

"Care to prove it?"

"I will!" Ptolemy shifted back in to an attack stance as Algol did the same. There was no need to find a clear area. Once everyone around them realized it was two Saints about to fight, they cleared the area on their own. People were already shouting encouragement and yelling bets back and forth to each other as the two combatants started to circle each other.

Ptolemy charged, throwing a punch at the Perseus Saint, but Algol dodged, grabbed his arm and flipped him. Ptolemy hit the ground hard, put rolled away quickly, barely ganing his feet in time to block a punch from Algol. He retaliated with a kick, forcing the other Silver Saint back long enough for him to catch his breath. They exchanged a few more blows, forcing each other across the arena. Ptolemy realized he was in trouble when he slipped, his guard dropping for a split second.

Algol wasn't one to let an opportunity like that go to waste. The kick sent Ptolemy flying and he slammed into the wall of the practice ground, feeling the wall crack and give way. He stumbled out of the wreckage to find Algol already running towards him. There wasn't time for him to dodge, but there was still one trick he had left. He gathered his cosmo and waited until Algol was close enough, then thrust his fist out. The charging Perseus Saint skidded to a stop as he realized a multitude of small golden arrows were heading in his direction.

Algol managed to dodge most of them, but there were just too many for even a Saint to get away from. He flinched, bracing for the impact of one hitting him but none came and he watched in desbeilf as the arrow passed through him.

"Illusion!?" He shouted in surprise right before Ptolemy's knee slammed into his gut. That opening was all the Stagitta Saint had needed.

Ptolemy gave the dazed Algol a vicious uppercut, sending him flying. When he hit the ground again, the Stagitta Saint was waiting. As the other Saint tried to gain his feet, Ptolemy planted a foot on his chest, forcing him back to the ground. "Well?" he asked.

Algol glared at him. "You said we wouldn't be using cosmo!" he growled.

"I never said anything about using Cosmo, only that I was a match for you without our cloths," Ptolemy smirked a little himself, "and I guess I was right." He took his foot off the Perseus Saint.

"One win doesn't mean you're the better Saint," Algol said as sat up. "It only means you got lucky once."

"Keep telling yourself that," Ptolemy called over his shoulder as he walked away, trying not to show that he wasn't sure he could take Alogl if the Perseus Saint tried anything.

********

Up in the stands, from where they had been watching most of the fight, Asterion sighed and nudged Moses.

"Come on, lets go make sure he doesn't do anything stupid," the hound Saint said, nodding toward were Ptolemy was exiting the arena. Moses nodded.

"He took a few good hits there, and he's probably worse off than he realizes." Moses was half way down the stairs before he realized that Asterion wasn't behind him. He glanced back to find the other Saint, frowning slightly as he watched some of Algol friends tend to him.

"Asterion! You coming? " Moses yelled impatiently. Asterion started, threw one last look at the Peresu Saint, then headed down the steps. "What were doing?" Moses asked when he caught up. Asterion looked thoughtful.

"Don't you think that it seems like a lot of Saint are being sent out on missions lately?" The Hound Saint asked. Moses frowned, slightly confused.

"Aren't Saints always being sent out on missions?" He said.

"Yeah, but it seems like it's been more obvious lately…" Asterion trailed off, Moses sighed and slapped him on the back.

"Don't go looking for trouble when there isn't any. You're just over thinking things again!"

"Maybe I am…" Asterion said aloud, although he looked unconvinced as they headed down to find Ptolemy.


	3. Chapter 3

"So," Asterion said conversationally as he slowly circled his opponent, "I heard you have a girlfriend now!"

"What!" Ptolemy sputtered, going bright red. Asterion had timed his words so that they came just as Ptolemy was throwing his punch. With him distracted the Hound Saint was easily able to block the punch and land a solid kick to his stomach in retaliation. The Sagitta Saint went flying backwards with a faint 'oof' but managed to get his legs under him and skid to a stop without fully losing his balance.

"Where did you hear that?" he demanded.

"Oh, just around," Asterion answered as he shifted his stance into a slightly more offensive one. "Everyone knows you been making nice with that cute little girl down in the village."

"She's not I_little_/i_!" _Ptolemy charged him again. The two Saints exchanged a couple of punches. Asterion notices that something in Ptolemy was still off balance, and aimed a punch at him. As the other Saint when to block that, Asterion switched to a kick at the last second. Ptolemy's eyes widened and he moved to block but he wasn't able to absorb the full force of the blow. Still, he had enough thought to roll with it and come up mostly unharmed.

"She is still cute," Asterion said cheerfully, "and you can't deny that you been spending any awful lot of time with her…"

"Because she's a friend!" Ptolemy retorted, quickly aiming a kick at Asterion. The Hound Saint wasn't able to fully dodge it and grunted as he took the blow. He staggered a bit, more than what the kick should have caused him to do.

"A very pretty friend," Asterion said, still grinning. "One that you seem to be awfully interested. Come on, you can tell me! It's perfectly natural for a guy to be interested in a pretty girl!"

"..Okay fine, I like her. Now will you shut up about it!" Ptolemy rushed forward again; face red with embarrassment as he tried to press home the advantage he thought he had. Asterion waited until the last second then dodged, aiming a blow at Ptolemy's face. The younger Saint blocked it with a grunt, looking annoyed.

"Then why haven't you asked her to be your girl?" Asterion said, smirking a little. "What, scared to?"

"I'm a Saint; I'm not scared of anything!" Ptolemy shouted as he charged again. He was becoming more reckless. Asterion knocked away his clumsy attack and drove a knee into his stomach, knocking the air from the Sagitta Saint. Ptolemy grunted as he went down, try to catch his breath.

"Then why haven't you asked her yet?" Asterion said. "You could at least invite her out for a meal. If you don't make a move soon I'm sure someone else will. She is very cute after all."

"Be quiet," Ptolemy growled. "Why do you think you know so much about it anyway? I don't see you with a girlfriend!"

"Just because I don't have one right now it doesn't mean I couldn't get one if I wanted. There just hadn't been a girl that's that I've found interesting enough for me to be serious about."

"Well that would explain a lot," Ptolemy said then smirked, "like all the rumors I keep hearing about you and Moses!" Asterion feigned surprised as the other Saint rushed him.

"Really?" He said then smirked as Ptolemy. "Well rumors are rumors," he said as he dodged to the side, then grabbed Ptolemy's arm and flipped the other Saint. Ptolemy grunted as he slammed into the ground and Asterion placed a foot lightly on his chest. "But rumors are only words, and I've heard all that before."

Off to the side, Moses chuckled from his perch on a rock he had been observing the fight from.

"You'll have to get up a lot earlier to best Asterion in head games," he said. "You fall into his traps far too easily Ptolemy. You need to learn to keep your temper."

"But he's learning," Asterion said as removed his foot and offered the other Saint a hand up. "He's much better than he was before!"

"Would you two stop talking about me like I'm not here?" Ptolemy grumbled.

"Sorry," Asterion said and gave him a friendly slap on the back. "Ready for another round or you want to call it a day?" Ptolemy snorted.

"Like that would be enough to wipe me out! I could go all day!"

"Well then, let's hope that…"

"Lord Asterion!"

All three Saints turned at the shout.

"What is it?" Asterion said to the guard that had called him. He was wearing fancier armor than the regular guard that patrolled around Sanctuary, which meant he was one of the elites that stood guard up in the temple at the top of the hill. The Hound Saint was wondering what could have brought him all the way down here.

"Lord Asterion, the Pope wishes to speak with you," the man said, snapping to attention. "This message is of the utmost importance. You are to proceed to the temple immediately."

"The Pope?" Moses hopped down off his rock. "Asterion you had better get going…"

"I know," the Hound Saint said. "Sorry Ptolemy, looks like we'll have to finish it some other time."

"It's fine," Ptolemy waved him off. "I'll kick your butt some other day. Now get going, you don't want to keep the Pope of all people waiting!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Moses, take over for me would you? He could use the practice!" Asterion took off, leaving Ptolemy shouting something after him. He ignored it as he puzzled over what reason the Pope could have for calling him. It was far too early for him to be asking for a report about the new trainees and Asterion honestly couldn't think of anything else he had done that would have attracted the attention of the leader of Sanctuary. He hadn't been on any missions, no one had expressed any disappointment with his teaching methods, and even the guard seemed to have no idea what he had been sent. His surface thoughts were mostly annoyance that he had been forced to come this far to find him. Not wanting to have to push any further into someone's head over something so petty, Asterion returned to his own private thoughts as he continued his jog up to the mountain.

Getting up through the twelve temples was easy enough when he had the guide with him. Just a mention that he was responding to the summons of the Pope was enough to clear even the most stubborn of Gold Saints out of the way.

At the top, both Asterion and the messenger slower their steps. Despite Sanctuary being a clan of warriors, its center was still a temple. Asterion had only visited it a few times and each time he felt a sort of strength from the building. He wasn't sure exactly what it was he was sensing from the building. The servants that worked inside the temple and even the other Saints that visited it didn't seem to feel the kind of awe for it that he did. They respected it, and even seem to be affected by its age but it didn't seem to press on them as much as did him. It wasn't just the Cosmo of the place either. When he thought about it, it really seemed to be his own abilities picking up on the countless memories and emotions that were attached to this place. It had been here so long that would explain the weight of what he was picking up.

"Lord Asterion?" the messenger said. Asterion realized belatedly that he had actually stopped moving.

"..Let's go," he said and started walking ahead. The messenger gave him a puzzled look but didn't say anything more. Asterion didn't want to pry either so kept his shields up.

Unsurprisingly the man led him towards the center of the temple and the Pope's audience chamber. What did surprise Asterion was that there was another man waiting by the closed, massive, double doors.

"Lord Asterion, Lord Albiore, I will inform the Pope that you have arrived." The messenger bowed, and then left. There was a moment of silence and the two men gave each other measuring looks.

"..Cepheus Albiore?" Asterion said finally, breaking the cautious silence.

"Yes?" The other Saint looked at him faintly suspiciously.

"Canis Asterion," Asterion said and offered his hand for the other Saint to shake. He hadn't meet Albiore before but he knew him by name and reputation. "I didn't think that you had come back to Sanctuary."

Albiore hesitated a moment then reached forward to shake his hand warmly. "I hadn't known that my reputation preceded me," he said with a half smile. "I just arrived in response to a summons from the Pope."

"Any Silver Saint who has managed to earn the respect of the Gold Saints is talked about," Asterion grinned. "I was surprised to hear that you had volunteered to leave Sanctuary to teach."

"I like teaching," Albiore said. Asterion could sense there was more to his words but he didn't want to pry, not when it was to simply satisfy his own curiosity. That was abusing his powers in ways his Master would have had his head over.

"I suppose we are alike," he said instead. "I've been put in charge of the new recruits just brought to Sanctuary and I'm finding that enjoyable."

"Really?" Albiore looked rather interested. "Are there any promising recruits?"

"A few. It's still too early to tell with most of them thought. I'll train them for another half a year, then the ones that are coming along will be sent to their own masters to be…"

"My Lord Saints?"

Both of them looked over at the messenger, who bowed to them. "The Pope is ready to see you now," he said.

Albiore and Asterion both straighter their postures slightly as the messenger threw open the double doors and gestured for them to go through. Asterion lagged behind and let Albiore take the lead as they walked into the Pope's audience chamber. This is was a smaller affair than the big throne chamber towards the center of the temple.

It was also set up to intimidating. The Pope sat on a throne atop a tall balcony nearly a full story above those who he was speaking too. Asterion sometimes wondered if that massive gap was truly necessary before reminding himself that the Pope was the one who spoke for Lady Athena. It was only natural that he stood above the mere Saints. That was how it had been for as long as he could remember.

As they entered the Pope was already in place. He and Albiore crossed to the edge of the audience balcony and went down on one knee.

"My Lord Pope," they both muttered respectfully, Albiore speaking a beat behind him.

"Raise," the Pope said after a moment, the chamber carrying his voice easily. "Thank you for responding promptly."

"Of course," Albiore said.

"You are most likely wondering why I called the two of you here," the Pope said. "I will try to make this as brief as I can so that you may start. I have a mission for the two of you."

"A mission?" Asterion couldn't help asking. This was surprising. Lately the Pope had been keeping him here to continue his work with the group. "What sort of mission, Lord Pope?"

"To outward eyes this will be a minor mission but it may contain a threat that affects all of Sanctuary itself."

"What?" Albiore and Asterion glanced at each other before looking back up at the Pope.

"I hope that this is nothing as dangerous as I fear, but I do not want to be caught off guard. As you maybe aware, Sanctuary has operatives and contacts in many countries across the globe," the Pope continued as if he hadn't heard their outburst. "A few days ago we received a worrying report from one of those contacts in Spain. There was an attack on a museum there, and according to his report there was security footage of two men breaking into the building. Two men who tore down the wall with their bare hands in order to get inside."

"Rogue Saints?" Albiore asked.

"We are not sure yet," the Pope answered. "That is why we are sending the two of you over to Spain to take care of this. The agent that brought in the contact's concerns will take you too him. You are to determine if this is truly caused by a Saint who has dared gone rouge and take care of him if that does prove to be the case. We cannot allow someone who would act so selfishly on their own desires to continue to bear the title of Saint!"

"Yes, Lord Pope," Asterion muttered along with Albiore. But something was making him uneasy. There was a faint tension in the air as the spoke those last words that made the hair on the back of his neck prickle. This wasn't the first time he had felt something like this from the Pope, and it always made him uncomfortable. Like there was something _wrong _with the Pope…

_Stop it,_ he told himself firmly. _It's not your place to worry or doubt the Pope. You are to obey an order; that is all. _Then he paid close attention to the rest of what the Pope was saying.

"Albiore, I am sending you because you already speak the language. Do not reveal to the agent that you do unless it is absolutely necessary. I wish to know if the agent is truthful. He may reveal things around you that had he would not usually if he assumes you cannot understand him."

"Yes, Lord Pope," The Cepheus Saint muttered.

"Asterion," the Pope said and turned to the other Saint. "I want you to go with him in order to see if your particular abilities can pick up any traces of who attacked and what caused them to attack a museum of all places."

"Yes, Lord Pope," Asterion answered, bowing his head. He tried to ignore the prickling against his mind that indicated there was more than that to the Pope's words. That wasn't his place to think about that. Of course the Pope of all Sanctuary would be worrying about many things at once. It was nothing to be alarmed over.

The Pope then nodded in dismissal and they stood, bowed once more, and then left the audience chamber. They walked in silence until they finally reached the sunlight of the outside world.

"So, I suppose we're heading to Spain then," Asterion said out loud.

"Yes," Albiore said. "I assume he wants us to leave as soon as possible."

"I do have a couple things to take care of before we head off," Asterion admitted. "I don't know how long this mission will take and I have duties that I can't just abandon."

"That is understandable," Albiore said and gave a slight smile. "I have something I wanted to take care of myself. Shall we meet by the entrance to Sanctuary then?"

"That works for me," Asterion said, smiling a little. "But is that all right? We don't want to leave the guide waiting."

"Waiting will do him no harm." Albiore turned and started to walk away. "Please don't be late," the Cepheus Saint called back at him as a warning. Asterion just saluted him then hurried off to get his own chores out of the way.

The first person he went to see was Moses. Unfortunately his friend wasn't in the training ground where he had left him.

"Moses! Ptolemy!" He called urgently but there was no answer. Muttering several curses under his breath he searched the area until he spotted one of the guardsmen that patrolled Sanctuary.

"You there," Asterion hailed him, "have you seen the Saints that were practicing in this area?"

"Lord Asterion," the guard said respectfully snapping to attention. "I think that Lord Ptolemy has headed into town and Lord Moses has gone on his own patrol of the grounds. Would you like me to fetch them for you?"

"No," Asterion sighed. "I'll fetch them myself. Do you know which way Moses went?"

"Towards the eastern side of the Sanctuary border. If you like I can go…"

"I said it's fine," Asterion snapped and took off at a light run towards that area. He could move faster than the guard even on a bad day. He wasn't going to wait around for him to find him.

Even knowing the area and having a vague sort of memory of where Moses' patrol usual ran it took him close to fifteen minutes to spot his friend.

"Moses," he called and waved. The Whale Saint paused and nodded at him, the faintly amused smile he had been wearing falling when he got close enough for his friend to catch his expression.

"Bad news?" he asked once they got within earshot of each other. Asterion shook his head.

"No, but the pope assigned me a mission."

"A mission?" Moses looked surprised, and then grinned. "You must have done something right if the Pope called for you specifically. What's the mission about?"

"It's probably better I didn't say anything," Asterion said. "I don't think the Pope would want me spreading that sort of information around before I get it done."

"..Fair enough," Moses said, "but if you have a mission shouldn't be getting going instead of running around Sanctuary."

"Yes, but I had to track you down first. I need you to take over with the trainees while I'm gone. They're doing to need someone to at least keep any eye on them until I get back."

"You're trust me around kids?" Moses said, amused. "I'll do what I can, as long as they don't run screaming at the sight of me."

"Your face isn't that scary," Asterion chuckled. "You'll probably only give them mild nightmares."

"That's very comforting Asterion. I can just _feel _my confidence returning."

"Glad to be of service," the Hound Saint grinned. "If you really think you're going to have trouble with it, you can always ask Ptolemy to help….where is he anyway?"

"I talked him into heading into town to check on his girl," Moses smirked. "He's gotten this far, I don't want to see him fail just because he's to scared to mess up with her."

"What, you're playing match maker now? I never knew you had a romantic side!"

"There are many things that you don't know about me," Moses said, trying hard to sound mysterious. Asterion just laughed and Moses grinned a little. "But enough about me. Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"..Right," Asterion said and squinted at the sun as he tried to judge how much time he had left. "I have to run. Just remember the trainees…."

"I'll keep an eye on them," Moses promised. "Just be careful Asterion…and good luck."

"Thanks," Asterion said, then took off, throwing a wave over his shoulder as he headed toward his hut to grab the few things he would need for this journey and his Cloth.

Albiore was already waiting there when he arrived at the meeting point, talking quietly with a short, impatient looking man.

"Ah, there you are," Albiore said by way of greeting once he caught sight of him. "I was beginning to think you had forgotten the meeting place!"

"My mind isn't that bad!" Asterion said, grinning. Albiore grinned back, but the man, Asterion supposed it was their guide, just made an annoyed sound.

"Since both my _Lord _Saints are here now, may we leave?" he said almost huffily. "Travel plans were not easy to arrange and I cannot exactly tell them to just wait!"

Asterion felt a twinge of annoyance at the way the man was speaking to him but Albiore replied with "Then let us depart," before he could say anything else. He shot the other Saint a look but Albiore just shook his head as if to say 'it's not worth it'. Asterion wanted to argue the point, but the other Saint was already following their guide down the trails and Asterion was forced to play catch up.

"So what part of Spain are we heading too?" He asked as he reached them.

"A small town on the coast," the short man answered. "It's because of the size that most other countries haven't taken notice of it. We were lucky in that. It would take much more to get you into the country unnoticed."

"Really?" Albiore said mildly. "Why would it be so difficult then?"

"There would be more attention on the airports then," the man explained impatiently. "There would be no way to get someone with a Pandora's Box or a Cloth into an airport without notice then, at least without attracting all sorts of attention."

"I…see," Asterion said at last. "Then how are we getting here?"

"I know someone with a private plane that is willing to ferry Saints," the man said. "I can see you on that plane, then it's up to your contact there to get you back home."

"You aren't coming with us?" Asterion said in surprise. The man just snorted.

"Of course not! I'm only a messenger. The man you'll meet when you land is the one that sent the alert. Ask him for details."

"Umm...okay," the Hound Saint said in confusion. "So do you know anything about this mission..?"

"No, not really," the man said briskly. "Save all questions until you get there. I don't wish to be bothered with them."

Albiore grabbed Asterion's arm to stop him from grabbing the man. The Saints traded heated glares, until at last the Hound Saint shook himself free from the other's grasp and didn't say anything else to the man the rest of the time he was in his presence. He didn't trust his tempter to hold if he did speak.

"You know," Asterion muttered, hours later, as they disembarked from the plane that had brought them to Spain, "I wish we could teleport. That would make things a lot easier."

"True," Albiore agreed, "I suppose it would, but at the same time it wouldn't deny us the opportunities for more…interesting forms of travel, wouldn't it?"

"Personally, I think I would survive without the 'interesting forms of' travel." After spending the last few hours on a very bumpy plane ride, Asterion was set to prefer any form of travel to taking to the skies again. As he spoke he took a quick glance around the area. Their plane had landed away from the airport, at a more private landing strip. There was a middle-aged man walking towards them. He seemed to hesitate for a moment as he got close.

"You're the guys from Sanctuary?" he said as he got close, eyes linger on the Pandora's boxes they had on their backs. There was a slight accent to his Greek.

"Yes," Albiore answered. "You're our contact here?"

"Yes," he said, "I'm Gil, a member of a specialist security team that was called in after a break in at a museum. You two are Saints?"

"We are," Asterion said. "I'm Hound Asterion and this is Cepheus Albiore. We're Silver Saint sent by the Holy Father. Why did you send word to Sanctuary about a simple break in?"

The man studied them for a few moments then sighed. "It's complicated," he said, "I'll give you the details once we get underway. It'll be more private once we're in the car."

The two Saints traded brief glances. "Very well," Albiore said at last. "Lead the way." The man nodded.

"This way," he said and started off, Asterion and Albiore not far behind him.

Their guide trooped ahead of them as he led them toward a small car that was waiting for them near the landing strip. As they crammed their Pandora' boxes in the tiny truck, the guide glanced back at them, then shook his head and muttered something as he frowned.

"What did he say?" he said softly to Albiore.

"I _think _he said we were just children," his fellow Saint said, frowning uncertainly. "His accent is a bit different than what I grew up with but I think I caught all of it. "

"Children?" Asterion half growled. "What does he think we are? We're Saints! We've probably faced more than even he has…!"

"Maybe, but compared to the rest of the world we are young," Albiore said gently. "I keep getting words like that when I got to buy supplies in the town on the neighboring island to Andromeda. We are young Asterion, you must admit to that. To them we are children who they think need looking after. Don't let it get to you, just ignore their jibes and let your own abilities to prove them wrong."

"I shouldn't have to prove anything to him!" Asterion hissed back. "We were sent by the Pope himself! He knows we're Saints, he should…"

"Not now," Albiore hissed as their guide turned toward them.

"Are you two ready yet?" he asked. His tone was polite, but he was drumming his fingers on the top of his car as he checked the watch he was wearing on his wrist.

"Yes," Albiore said firmly and gave Asterion a last look. The hound Saint glared at him, half wanting to argue but after a moment of hesitation he climbed in the backseat of the car with the other Saint.

As they pulled out into the street, Asterion struggled to strength the shields on his mind. He had forgotten how much he disliked having to go into big cities. Maybe it was because there really weren't that many people living in Sanctuary, but he had never had any problems shutting out the thoughts and emotions of other people there. Out here however…there were so many more minds, so many swirls of emotions that it was almost impossible to shut them out entirely. There was an indistinct buzz in the back to his mind, as if he was hearing a conversation in a far off room. It took a lot of concentration to block it out entirely and it wasn't worth it most of the time. The noise was starting to give him a headache too. His only hope was that this would turn out to be a simple mission. One they could complete quickly and he would be out of here. Even if that wasn't possible, maybe the mission would take them out of the city and into the countryside. He thought he could deal with that.

"…..so we aren't sure what they really wanted," Asterion finally became aware that their guide had started talking. Albiore was leaning forward, nodding intently at what the man was saying. Asterion quickly turned his attention to the conversation, hoping that he hadn't missed anything important.

"Have you told anyone else about these details?" Albiore said frowning.

"I did try to report it to the police, but they're just convinced the surveillance tapes have been messed with. Like most people in this era they don't want to believe that a human being is capable of such destruction on their own," their guide sighed. "I've managed to convince the head of the museum that I was having specialists flown in to see if they could make anything of the damage but I didn't think that you would be so... Young looking. I trust Sanctuary but I don't think my boss even knows that it exists. You have to get this taken care of fast."

"Don't worry," Asterion spooked up, causing both of the others in the car to give him surprise looks. "We'll get his taken care of quickly; you have my word on that." Ever word he meant fully. He didn't want to have to stay here longer than they had too.

The rest of the ride to the museum was rather quiet although Asterion could feel his head ache growing as they seemed to creep along at a snails pace through the city streets.

"We can _walk _faster than this," he grumbled more than once but Albiore just glared at him.

"I am sorry it is taking so long," their guide snapped. "You are free to walk there of course, but I was not aware that you were familiar with this city."

"…..I'm not," Asterion admitted grudgingly. He spared a glance at Albiore who just gave him a small smile.

"I've never been here before either," Albiore said gently. "Getting lost would only serve to make it take us even longer to get to the museum. Be patient."

Those words caused Asterion to start a little. How often had he said them to Ptolemy when the other Saint was complaining about something? He was usually the one being calm and reasonable! It was embarrassing and rankling to have someone else be forced to take care of him. The hound Saint took a deep breath, trying to drive out his headache. Maybe it was making him irritable but he should have known better than to let it affect him so much. He was a Saint after all, not a green trainee who didn't know how to handle his emotions. Letting them get the better of him like this was shameful.

"..Very well," was all he would say though. He was not going to admit his own stupidly in front of a civilian. Albiore must have been thinking the same because he didn't say another word about it either, simply giving him an encouraging nod. Asterion bristled a little at being looked down on but didn't try to argue. It would only make himself look worse. Instead he tried to slip into a light form of meditation, working to keep his mind clear until their guide said.

"Here we are."

Asterion opened his eyes to be greeted by the sight of a very large regal looking building with columns lining it's from. Several large white vans where parked in front of it, people crowded around them. Asterion stared at them curiously as their guide cursed and took an abrupt turn that took the building out of sight.

"Damn news anchors," he muttered. "They've been crawling all over the area since they heard about the break-in."

"But it's been a few days, hasn't it?" Asterion asked. "Shouldn't they have gotten bored with it already?"

Their guide shook his head. "Not with something like this. The museum officials are keeping quiet, trying to make sure nothing strange gets out. But there's too many people involved in this to keep it under wraps. People talk, someone hears about the museum doing a cover-up, and the next thing you know the news has latched onto it. Nothing much happens here so this is very big news. They're going to milk it for all it's worth."

In a way Asterion understood that. It was a lot like Sanctuary in a way. You would think that with so much danger involved with just training to be a Saint that people wouldn't be able to find the time to spread useless rumors, but for some reason even the tiniest details of personal lives seemed to spread in a matter of hours.

"Another human fault," he muttered under his breath.

"Only one of many," Albiore said softly, causing Asterion to start. The Hound Saint hadn't even been aware he had spoken out loud. As he glanced at the other Saint curiously, the car gave a sharp lurch, turning down an alley. Asterion grabbed onto the seat to keep from being thrown against the door.

"Hey!" he said indignantly.

"What's going on?" Albiore said at the same time, leaning forward to talk to their guide.

"Sorry about that that," the man said, "but we have to take the back way in. Bringing you in through the main entrance is going to cause a lot more trouble than it's worth with all those idiots crawling around."

"I see," Albiore said. Asterion nodded, although he didn't fully agree with what their guide was saying to them. They could have talked around whoever was in front of the museum if they wanted. At least he might have been able to make them not care that they were there, but it was too late now. They were turning into a small parking lot at the back of the museum, one that was at the end of small alley and hidden by the buildings of the museum itself.

"This is one of the employee entrances," their guide said as he turned off the car and opened the door. The two Saints followed him as he got out. "I don't think anyone will see us if we come in this way."

"Fine, just let us get our Cloths," Asterion jerked his thumb towards the trunk.

"Do you really need those things?" their guide demanded, annoyed. "You're going to be suspicious enough as it is! I am not going to be able to explain great hulking boxes!"

"We are Saints," Asterion protested out of habit. He didn't like going into uncertain situations without his Cloth. "If it makes you feel any better, I can make certain no one even notices we're carrying anything!" Granted that would be a strain on his powers, but he was nearly certain he could do it.

"Just how do you plan on doing that?" the man said tartly. "Do one of your little magic tricks? I'll admit that you Saints can do odd things, but I don't think that even you can fool a room full of people into not noticing box that big!"

"You're doubting a Saint!" Asterion glared at him. "You have no idea what we're capable of…!"

"Asterion," Albiore said sharply a hand falling on his shoulder. "Please stop this," the Cepheus Saint added in softer tones. "I don't sense any enemies nearby at the moment, and we do need to conserve our strength in case we need it later. Why waste it dealing with something we can easily avoid." Asterion sighed; acknowledge the logic in the other Saint's words but not liking it.

"Fine," he said. Their guide shook his head at them, but led them up a few steps into a small side door that opened when he waved a security pass in front of it.

"These are the only way into or out of most of the side doors," Gil said as he flashed the security pass back at them. "I managed to beg one off the museum staff for this investigation but they aren't happy about it. If I'm not around to let you out, you'll probably end up having to exit through the front door. Since I doubt you want to brave _that _media circus, stay close." Asterion would have snapped something at the man's tone, but Albiore caught his eye. The hound saint stayed silent although he still wasn't happy about being talked too.

The door opened into a short hallway that lead pass a small locker room and break area, before coming to a door that opened into the museum proper. Inside, even Asterion couldn't help but be impressed. They were in a massive circular space, with evenly spaced columns holding up the ceiling. A glance up showed a massive glass dome set in the center of the ceiling as a skylight. The overall effect reminded him of some of the temples back in Sanctuary, although he supposed that was the intent. There weren't many people around, something that surprised him.

"Where is everyone?" he asked their guide as the crossed the foyer. There were several openings off this area, leading, he supposed, to different exhibit halls. The one they were heading too was the only one with police tape crossing it.

"The museum is still closed," Gil answered. "The police want a more solid explanation before they allow the public back in. Naturally, the museum is putting pressure on them for it. Everyday they're closed they lose money."

As they neared the blocked archway, they saw a policeman standing in front of the police tape, arguing fiercely with an older man in civilian clothes. Asterion gave up trying to figure out just what they were saying after a few seconds. He couldn't understand Spanish at all and these two were speaking very fast.

"What are they saying?" He hissed under his breath. Albiore held up a hand.

"That's what I'm trying to figure out!" Asterion waited in silence for a moment as Albiore tried to listen tot the other two, head cocked as he occasionally mouthed words to himself.

"Well?" Albiore frowned at him.

"This isn't that easy you know!" the Saint snapped at him, surprising him. He hadn't though Albiore could lose his temped. "I think that the guard isn't happy about using heading into the hall. He doesn't trust us and our guide isn't willing to explain much. The other man, I think they said he's a Professor, isn't happy about it either."

"Why?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out! Keep quiet for a moment!" Albiore proceeded to ignore him after that despite Asterion making curious noises. Eventually after a few minutes he sighed. "I don't think I'll be able to get anything useful out of this."

"I though you said you spoke Spanish," Asterion gave the other Saint a measuring look.

"I do," Albiore said, "but I am slightly rusty at it and the Spanish they are speaking here is….different."

"Different?" Asterion asked him curiously. "How?"

"It's just….different than how I remember it," Albiore said. "It's hard to describe."

Asterion fell silent, digesting then as the voices of the three men who were arguing rose. "How long do you think this will go on?"

"I'm not sure," Albiore said. "They don't trust us and I don't think they want to trust us either."

"Well, we are foreigners after all," Asterion mused a loud. "I suppose they really wouldn't want us near anything valuable."

"Hmm," Albiore replied, still frowning. Before Asterion could ask him what he was thinking, their guide broke off from his conversation and headed over.

"I think I've finally convinced them to let us in," he grumbled. "It wasn't easy. They don't like kids touching the exhibits normally and I couldn't exactly explain about Sanctuary without sounding like a nutcase…"

"Kids?" Asterion grumbled. He was getting tired of the word.

"Yes, i_kids/i,_" their guide said glaring at them. "One's that they're allowing into the hall but only with the stipulation that you don't mess up anything."

"We won't," Albiore said quickly as Asterion glowered. Just how were they supposed to get the mission done if people would insist on blocking them?

"Good, see that you don't," Gil said. "Now let's get this over with. The sooner it's done the better."

"I couldn't agree more," Asterion muttered under his breath as they started to walk towards the roped off hall. When they reached it their guide exchanged a few tense words with the guard and the professor, and then quickly ducked under the tape.

"You coming?" he called back to the Saints. As they neared the door however, the guard moved, suddenly blocking their path as he gave them searching looks. Asterion glared back, daring him to try stopping them. He hadn't come all the way here just to be stopped now.

Their guide snapped something in rapid fire Spanish but the guard just said something calmly as the Professor stalked up to them. He started on some long-winded lecture that Asterion decided to only pay the barest bit of attention to. What was the use of listening to something you couldn't even understand anyway? But apparently the man found his inattention irritating since his voice started to rise more and more until he was practically shouting.

That was when their guide snapped something in a very calm, but annoyed tone. The professor stopped in mid-sentence, looking confused before engaging in another brief back and forth. At last the man turned and snapped something at them in Spanish before stalking off.

"Sorry about that," their guide said. "He apparently wasn't listening when I said you two didn't speak Spanish." He said something to the guard, who looked amused, and the man moved out of the way with a brief chuckle. "Come on, let's get moving!"

"Very well," Albiore ducked under the tape. After a brief nod at the police guard, Asterion ducked under the yellow caution tape and followed the others. Their footsteps echoed down the empty hall for a moment, and then they turned a corner and entered the hall. Here, Asterion finally realized why their guide had called in the Saints.

The hall was a mess. Originally someone had clearly tried to make it look like some long forgotten ancient Egyptian temple, but now that illusion was all but destroyed. The fake pillars had been knocked over and shattered against the floor. A few of the real pillars had been damaged as well, and now bore signs of having been hastily repaired and plastered with signs warning even someone like him who couldn't understand Spanish that they were fragile. Displays had been smashed and shattered, their contents scattered across the floor. There was little left of the more fragile of the pieces. At the back it looked like someone had built a fake altar atop a platform, but now the altar had been torn out of the platform, then thrown to the ground and smashed to bit. A few stray display cases along the walls remained intact, but even most of those had been smashed. Scattered papers and bits of insulation were scattered through out the wreckage like snowflakes.

Amidst all this destruction there were a few things that seemed out of place, like the twisted vending machine that was laying a ways down the hall. It didn't fit in with any of the other things in the hall and he frowned at it. The guide must have noticed the puzzled glance because he spoke up.

"There was a break room for the employees," he said and pointed toward the back of the hall. Asterion noticed another, smaller whole in the far wall; the twisted wreckage of what had once been a door lying not far from it. "They actually came in through a backdoor that is used for deliveries, and then preceded into the hall," he said as he looked over at them. "Fortunately there were only security personnel in the museum since it had closed for the day. Unfortunately, they did their jobs and tried to stop them."

The Saints traded glances at that. A security officer, even an armed one, would have been no match for anyone who was able to cause this amount of destruction.

"How many casualties?" Albiore asked softly. Gil looked away. He closed his eyes briefly, a pained look crossing his face.

"Two were killed outright," he said at last, "and there's a third in the hospital that still hasn't woken up yet. They aren't sure if he ever will or even if he will be the same if he does."

"I see…I am sorry it had to come to that," Albiore said.

"We will catch whoever did this," Asterion spoke up, headache momentarily forgotten. He might not be very happy about being here, but he felt some sympathy for the hurt guards. A Saint was supposed to protect the world. If this was rogue intent on using his powers for his own gain then he fully intended to take them down. "Do we know why they came here of all places?" He supposed there could be something that would interest a Saint in a museum, but why not go for the Greek exhibits if that was the case? Had they been interrupted before they could get that far?

"We aren't sure of anything yet because of how many pieces everything is in," their guide said. "The scientists have been throwing fits all day about the damage to irreplaceable artifacts. The police haven't even allowed them in to start cataloging everything. I know they plan to start putting pressure on the museum to get the police out of here. We probably only have a day or two at most. I hope the two of you are up to this task."

"We are," Albiore assured him putting a hand out to silence Asterion before he could say anything. The Hound Saint glared at him but kept his silence. "Asterion," Albiore said. "Do you think you'll be able to pick up anything out of this mess?"

"Probably," Asterion replied, trying to sound more certain than he felt. "There's enough destruction here that major traces must have been left behind."

"Traces?" their guide asked. Asterion ignored him and walked toward the center of the room. Behind him he heard Albiore start speaking again.

"Asterion is something of a psychic," the Cepheus Saint started to explain. "He can pick up thoughts and emotions from those around him. When those thoughts and emotions are strong enough, they can leave an imprint on the area around him."

"That's possible?" Their guide said skeptically. Asterion felt a tiny spark of anger, but reminded himself to ignore it. He was going to need all his concentration for the task at hand. This was something he was not going to fail at. His pride as a Saint would let him, not when there was another Saint watching. He tried to hide his own nervousness.

Truthfully, he wasn't sure he could actually pick up anything from the intruders. Not when they had been gone for so long, and now when Albiore was giving his abilities a little more credit than they deserved. It was true that he could pick up faint echoes of very strong emotions from an area or object, but not thoughts. That was a slight exaggeration of his abilities, and one that he had to admit was his own fault. When he had first arrived at Sanctuary, fresh from his training in Austria and absurdly proud of his abilities, it had come as a shock to realize that he wasn't the only one with special ability and he was nowhere near close to being the only psychic. There were already others, and some of them had claimed the title long before he had. After having been so long that his gift was 'unique' it had been a rude wakeup call. In desperation to make _some _sort of name for himself, he bragged about how powerful these abilities were.

The rumors had been more effective than he had meant them to be. They had attracted the attention of the higher-ranking people in Sanctuary. This wasn't the first mission he had been given where he was expected to use his powers the way he said he could. The only reason he had been able to pull it off so far was a combination of his own intuition, skill, and a lot of luck. Deep down he knew that someday that luck would have to run out, but he did not intend for today to be that day.

He strode as confidently as he could into the center of the destruction then closed his eyes and let his mind fall into the meditation exercises his Master had taught him long ago. They centered him somewhat, but he didn't allow himself to fall into the full trance that would increase his sensitivity. Having to explain why he needed to slip into such a deep trance would be a pain, and besides, he needed to be able to move around for this.

Slowly, painstakingly, he took down the shields that blocked out others thoughts. First to be heard where the thoughts and emotions of the people in the room with him. Their guide was anxious, and disbelieving about this. Albiore was calmer, but worried over something and slightly impatient under his calm exterior. He wanted to be back on his island with his students, not here.

It made Asterion feel a little bit better to know his fellow Saint wasn't as calm as he pretended to be. Next he slowly lowered the barrier a little more. Now he could hear the other people in the building, a soft murmur in the back of his mind that seemed to grow louder, like a radio that someone was turning up. Asterion shut out the thought as best he could and tried to focus on the emotions he could feel in the room.

Now that he was unshielded and focusing on them the emotions swirling about the room were obvious. They covered the area like a fog, but unfortunately he could catch nothing distinct from them. Each was just a vague whisper of the thousands of people who had crossed through here and held no real useful information. It was like trying to catch shapes in the overall fog. He would catch a shape, a whisper of something he thought was important. The presence of both Albiore and Gil made it even harder for him to find anything. Their emotions were overriding the fainter, past echoes and making them even harder to read. Asking them to leave; however, was out of the question.

Instead what he did was to peer around the hall through silted eyes, to try and find a good location from that might be far enough away from them that he could get a better reading. Best not to let them know what he was doing though. After a moment he held out a hand and started to walk, trying to appear confident. He took a wandering course, crisscrossing the hall in an attempt to try and find i_something/i_ that would be of use. Their guide was getting restless and annoyed; he could feel it at the back of his mind from even over here. Albiore kept muttering reassurances to the guide, but as the minutes passed Asterion could feel even him starting to doubt if he was able to do this.

As he neared the end of the hall, Asterion was beginning to feel the faintest stirrings of panic. So far so far he hadn't sensed anything that could be of use, and the others were getting impatient again. He couldn't afford to drag things out much more. Although his pride would take a blow, maybe he could say that too many people had been in here for him to be able to pinpoint. Asterion took a step forward, still half-distracted by these thoughts.

A sudden surge of emotions hit him like a hammer and he stopped dead, biting his lip so hard to keep from crying out that he tasted blood. Hurriedly he raised his mental shield to regain some sort of balance again.

"Asterion?" Albiore said, faintly worried. Asterion swallowed a little.

"What is it?" he called back, mouth dry.

"..Is something wrong?" Until that question, Asterion hadn't even been aware that his emotions were so obvious.

"Yes," he called back after a moment, "I just picked up on the remnants of the guard's death. A major trauma like that always leaves traces. I wasn't expecting how strong it would be after so much time has passed." Now that he had cleared his mind for a moment he could recognize what it was. Normally he could shut the shock of such a violent death out enough to keep it from shocking him so much. He had been forced to learn that just in his career as a Saint. This time he had been so focused on his sweep he had forgotten that there had been a death here.

"It hasn't been that long," their guide said, annoyance creeping into his voice.

"For a reading like this, when everyone has been wandering through the area? A few days are an eternity," Asterion called back as he started to rethink things. Why was he searching the whole area? There were certain areas that would retain more emotional traces than others, particularly the areas that held the most evidence of violence. For some reason negative emotions seemed to stick around longer than more positive ones. So which areas would be the ones to hold the most negative feelings around here…?

His eyes lit on the smashed fake altar. There was a lot of destruction around that area, much more than what existed in the rest of the hall. It looked as if whoever had destroyed that had been angry…very angry. He started to head in that direction, only making the vaguest effort to make it seem like he didn't have a destination in mind. It really didn't matter now anyway…if that area was as active as he thought it was then he wouldn't really have to make excuses. It took him much less time to reach the fake altar now that he wasn't stuck wandering around. Even with his eyes half closed he still knew when he got close. There was a massive amount of anger and frustration around the area. Even if he hadn't been trying he would have sensed it once he got close enough. Heck, if he had gone into a full trance he would have sensed it from across the hall.

There was a short flight of stairs that lead up to the platform they had built the altar on, and even those were cracked and half broken off. Caution tape was roped around the stairs and the platform itself, but Asterion ignored it.

"Hey!" The yell came from behind him. "Watch it, that's unstable!"

"He knows," he heard Albiore say soothingly as he gave a light leap over the unstable stairs to land safely on the platform. Well, semi-safely at least. He hadn't had a good view of the massive hole that now stood in the middle of the platform where the altar had been forcibly torn out. The thing must have been bolted to the floor. The whole structure wobbled when he touched down, and he froze for a second sure that the entire thing was about to collapse. Then it settled and he heaved a sight of relief.

"See?" their guide demanded from behind him.

"He knows what he's doing," was Albiore's reply. Asterion tried to ignore the uncertainty coming from Albiore. For once that wasn't hard, not when there was the massed emotion in this area to distract him. The most prominent were anger of course, but also sheer outrage, and annoyance. Whoever had done this really had been seriously offended by the altar. Slowly sinking to his knees, being very careful that the structure wasn't going to collapse on him, Asterion final let himself sink into a true trance. If he were going to find any sort of clue, this would be the place.

Even braced as he was for it, when he finally let down his barriers fully, he was nearly lost in the emotions around him. They swirled around him, a maelstrom of feelings that threatened to suck him into it and make him forget who he was. If that happened, there was no one here would be able to pull him out of his own madness. Not that he was going to give that a chance to happen. Slowly, bit-by-bit, he separated himself from it, guarding himself until he could finally read things again. He could feel his companions back behind him, taste worry and fear from both of them, something that surprised him. What was Albiore so afraid off…?

_You don't have time for that! _He told himself and turned back to the structure. Here was the anger the outrage, but he already knew those. What he wanted were the emotions that hadn't been caught by the surface. Slowly he peeled away that first layer, which proved to be tougher than he expected. He had forgotten how much hold anger could have over an area but slowly, bit by bit, he dug under it.

Here was more annoyance, but it tasted different. This was more of a puzzled annoyance, one mixed with uncertainty. There was also a bit of worry here, and the bitter tang of fear. It was as whoever had torn the altar apart hadn't known what to do next…no that didn't feel quiet right. There was confusion here too, as if things hadn't gone quiet the way he had been hoping for. As if something unexpected had happened….maybe the guard showing up had thrown them off? No…that couldn't be right; anyone with half a brain would realize that something valuable enough to be stored in a museum would have guards around it! Wait….

"Hey!" He yelled, half turning to look at his companions. "Did they have all the pieces for the show out yet?"

"Umm…" Their guide finished in a pocket and pulled out a small notebook to flip through it. "Ah, no. They still didn't have everything fully set up. A few of the more valuable pieces are still in storage."

"That's it!" Asterion jumped to his feet. The entire platform shudder at the sudden moment, and he quickly back flipped off it, pulling a wary face as it finally settled…this time a little lower than when he had jumped on it.

"What's it?" Albiore asked them as their guide made several incomprehensible noises. Asterion gave him an odd look as he jogged over to the other two.

"They didn't get what they came here for," Asterion said bluntly. "Whatever it was is still in storage. They panicked when they couldn't find it and that's why this place is so messed up." He waved a hand at the ruins of the hall.

"What?" Their guide looked panicked. "All this and they _still_ don't have what their looking for! Are you sure about that?"

"Positive," Asterion said with much more confidence than he felt. There was no way it could be wrong. He wouldn't let it be.

"So… what now? Are you saying they're still looking for whatever it was they were after? Are they going to come back?" Gil was fiddling with his notebook nervously.

"They might…and it wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing," Albiore said thoughtfully.

"What?"

"This gives us an opportunity," the Cepheus Saint explained. "If we can figure out what they are after, we can set it as bait…"

"And catch them in a trap of our own," Asterion said, realizing what the other Saint was up too.

"Exactly," Albiore said, meeting the other Saint's eyes. Asterion couldn't help grinning a little. This was turning out be kind of exciting.

A/n: Unexpected returns...with a very long chapter. XD Believe or not, this was actually only part of the original chapter in my outline. However I showed my usual impressive ability to underestimate the length of things, so when I realized that the chapter was getting long I found a good place to end it. I had a lot of fun working on this chapter. I really wish I had picked Unexpected up again earlier.

This chapter switches focus to Asterion and it brings in Albiore, one of my personal favorite Silver Saints. This is more of a set up to the plot itself and it sets the groundwork for how I plan to fill in a couple of plotholes concerning the Silver Saints.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Finally got this out! It took me a while to edit it. Also is giving me some trouble so sorry if some of the formatting gets messed up. Anyway, this is a more plot-related chapter. I did have fun writing it, even though the fight scenes were a bit of a challenge. I hope you enjoy.

~o~

"So if we want to set a trap for them, the first thing we need to do is figure out what they want," Asterion said thoughtfully, his voice echoing around the room.

"Well you're the big expert on all of this, what do you think they want?" Gil asked, crossing his arms. "Didn't your magic tell you that?"

"It's not magic, it's cosmo!" Asterion shot him an irritated glance. "And no, I can't tell what they were after. It's not that simple."

"Then we'll have to try and figure it out without that sort of help," Albiore said, cutting in. "Gil, do we know what sort of artifacts they were holding in reserve?"

"Not really," he admitted. "These archeologist types didn't really want to tell me anything. They want us out as soon as possible so they can get back to cataloging everything. They could have anything back there."

"Can you get us back to see what they have? If what they're after is really that powerful, maybe I'll be able to sense what is it." Asterion hoped it was something that had retained enough traces of Cosmo for him to get a reading off it. If it was just some relic that hadn't been touched by cosmo then they would be back to square one with this.

"Ask me for a miracle why don't you?" Gil grumbled, "You know the scientists aren't happy with me as it is. Asking them to let us into the inner sanctums of the museum is going to be next to impossible."

"It's just a bunch of boxes of old things, isn't it?" Asterion said, "it's not like we're going to be stomping around breaking everything."

"You won't be able to convince them of that!" Gil shook his head, "these guys are obsessive about this stuff. Do you know how much it will take to convince them to let a couple of kids wander around anywhere near their precious collection?" Asterion growled, tensing slightly.

"This is important," Albiore said quickly. "Can you at least try? Sanctuary sent us here for a reason, Gil. We are capable of doing this job but we can't do that unless we have you help."

"I'll try," Gil said after a moment, "but I can't promise anything. Is this really that important?"

"_Yes_," Asterion said impatiently. "We can't do anything without knowing exactly what they want."

"That might be totally true," Albiore said slowly. "It is true that it would be _easier _if we knew exactly what they wanted but it is not vital."

"What? Then how are we suppose to get them to come to us if we don't even know what they want?" Asterion looked at the other Saint as if he had gone mad.

"We make them think we know what they want," Albiore said smiling.

"You mean bluff them out?" Gil asked, "That could be risky. Do you have a plan or is this just a random idea?"

"Only the beginnings of one," Albiore admitted. "My thought is that whatever these thieves were searching for, it's not something they can sense easily and they do not want to be discovered."

Gil snorted. "They sure have a fun way of going about that. Wrecking a museum isn't exactly a way to lay low."

"Yet they left before they found what they were looking for. Even if it wasn't in the main hall itself, why didn't they look through the rest of the museum for it?"

"That is a good point. If they're as strong as they appear to be they should have been able to take down anyone who dared to stop them very easily." Asterion said thoughtfully. "But they left the moment they were found out."

"Exactly. Look at the damage around you," Albiore gestured to the ruined hall. "They have enough power to come in here anytime they chose. Why sulk about like common thieves? For some reason they have to maintain a level of secrecy, which is something that worries me."

"So they have something to hide," Asterion said, "I get the point about not being able to sense it either. If it was something with a strong cosmo signature, they would have already known it wasn't here." Well, that would shatter any hopes they had of finding it themselves. Unless it was something that you had to be very close to in order to sense, but that would steal mean going through all the items in the museum in order to find it. This could end up as a wild goose chase.

"They must have known what it looked like thought," Albiore said seriously, "otherwise they wouldn't have so quickly know that it wasn't here."

"Yeah, yeah, so you guys can't find it either, and these guys know what it looks like and you don't. It sounds like we're back to square one with this,"

"Not totally. They don't know we're here. If we can trick them into coming here then we can try to capture one of them and get them to tell us what they're looking for."

"That still doesn't answer how we're going to get them to com here," Asterion pointed out. "Why would they have a reason to come back."

"We get the museum to say it's bringing out what it has in storage," Albiore explained. "Put out an announcement that says that these are the most valuable pieces, and that they had been hidden until now. Our mysterious thieves will probably come back to see if what they were looking for is among them."

"On come _on_," Gil snapped. "Do you really think that something like that will work? It's a gamble!"

"Perhaps," Albiore said, "but I think it has a chance of working. All you have to do is convince the museum to put out an announcement, then Asterion and I will take care of the rest."

"You are insane, you know that? This couldn't possibly work!"

"We're Saints," Asterion couldn't help saying, "we live to do the impossible!"

"Okay, you know what?" Gil said in exasperation, "I'll get the museum to agree to your little….i_experiment/i_, but I'll keep doing i_real/i _work so that when this fails, we'll have something to fall back on!"

"It won't fail," Albiore said confidently, "something tells me that this will get us the results we need."

~0~0~

Waiting in a museum, in the dark, for someone that they weren't even sure would show was not the way Albiore had ever wanted to spend a night. He and Asterion had chosen the rather cramped area right between the half crumbled platform and the wall for their hiding space. Even if it did offer them a good view of the area, it wasn't the most comfortable place to wait in, particular when you were wearing a Cloth. Nor was the view something that was very pleasant. Not only was had it been uneventful and outright boring, there was something outright unsettling about a museum at night.

Not that he was scared by it mind you, but he did get an apprehensive shiver down his spine as he looked out over the area. The only real light was the moonlight coming in through the hole in the wall, lending everything an almost ghostly silver aura to it. The light sent strange shadows over some of the wreckage, and the occasional headlight that pierced through only served to create even more shadows, shadows that moved and twisted before disappearing. Sounds from outside, the rush of cars and occasional sounds of people, sound strange as they came in through the opening as well. They echoed eerily around the hall, making the wait seem even more surreal than it already was. He sighed quietly to himself, and forced his mind to stop paying attention to the tiny details and instead remember what they were here for.

The sudden rustle of tinfoil from the darkness next to him sounded as loud as thunder. Albiore tensed and glanced over for the source of the sounds. Asterion paused, looking slightly guilty.

"Sorry," the other Saint whispered as he finished unwrapping the candybar he was holding. He was clearly trying to be quiet about it but failing. Albiore couldn't help but wincing at the crinkling. If anyone did decide to attack now they were bound to be noticed.

"What are you doing?" Albiore hissed.

"Eating," Asterion whispered back. "This is the second day we've been stuck here. I nearly starved last time, and I'm not going to starve today."

There was a part of Albiore, a rather large part, that agreed with Asterion and sympathized with what he was saying. They had waited a day after Gil had managed to get the museum to agree to send out the announcement, and then hide themselves here at night for a stakeout. Neither of them had thought to bring anything to drink or eat then, which had meant a long cold and very hungry night. It was a minor hardship if you compared it to what he had been through during his training, but just because he could survive it didn't mean he would enjoy it.

He had meant to sneak something to eat in with him today, but he had been distracted by trying to convince Gil that they really did not need police back up. Nor had the man seemed to be overly encouraged when he saw them in their Cloths. He supposed that to an outside they would seem strange, and trying to explain why they were more effective than anything more modern hadn't seem to made an impact on him. Not that Albiore had really expected it to. Even his own students didn't really believe in the power of a Saint for a few weeks at least, and he did not plan on staying here that long. If this idea didn't pull through then he was going to come up with something else.

"Where did you even get that?" he said softly to the other Saint as his mind pulled him back to more immediate matters. He was sure that Asterion hadn't been carrying anything more than him when they had entered the museum today. He was sure he would have noticed if Asterion had been bringing in food.

"Over there," the Hound whispered as he gestured toward the corner of the shattered vending machine they had passed by earlier. It was just barely visible from here. "They were just laying around, so I grabbed a few."

"You shouldn't take what doesn't belong to you," Albiore scolded gently. "We're Saints, not thieves!"

"Do you really think they're even going to be missed?" Asterion said. "They've been scattered on the floor for how long again? Most of them would probably be thrown away as this place was cleaned up. It's better to take them now than let them go to waste." He grinned a little. "I grabbed enough for both of us. Want one?"

"We shouldn't be distracted from what we're suppose to be accomplishing," Albiore started to say but Asterion just held out one of the pilfered candy bars to him. He stared at it a moment before sighing and taking it. It was eaten as silently as he could manage, although each little sound made him wince. Asterion just seemed amused by the whole thing, and he tried to ignore the other Saint.

Eventually all the food, if you could call it that, was finished and the settled once more into waiting. It wasn't as if this was an arduous duty, only very boring. He was beginning to think this entire plan had failed. Surely whoever had broken into this place would have come by now if they were still nearby. They might have decided that whatever they had been after wasn't here and had moved on by now. They might not have heard the announcement. They might not have….there was a million such things that might have gone wrong with this plan. It hat been a weak one at best, but it was the best one he had been able to think of under the circumstances. It was possible that he had been completely and utterly wrong. If that was the case then they had to think of something else. He didn't like staying away from his students too long, he wanted this wrapped up fast. Perhaps he should have taken up Gil's offer to have him ask his black-market contacts. It could have turned up something, something more than this at any rate. This was probably just going to prove be a failure.

Albiore shook of the dark mood that was creeping up on him. Self-doubt wasn't going to get them anywhere in this situation. He would deal with problems as they arose, otherwise it would be far to easy to tangle himself up in 'maybe' and they would end up getting nothing done. That was a lesson shortly after he had started teaching. You couldn't allow the children to sense your own doubt or they would start doubting themselves.

That was the worst part about being in a stakeout like this. It gave you far too much time to think. He tried to fall into some of the old meditation patterns his master had taught him during his training, being careful not to sink too far into a trance.

The hours ticked by almost agonizingly slowly with absolutely nothing. As it grew late Albiore sighed to himself, almost ready to give up for the night. He and Asterion would have to come back here tomorrow, something he had hoped not to have to do…

Something brushed across his senses. It was only slightly there, but that was cosmo, one that belonged to someone he didn't know, and most telling, this one was carefully dampened to avoid detection. His heart speed up slightly and glanced over at Asterion. The Hound Saint met his eyes and nodded one. Albiore wasn't particularly surprised by that. Given Asterion's particular ablates, Asterion had probably sensed the intruder before he had become aware of it.

Albiore shifted slightly, moving into a crouch. Beside him, Asterion did the same as the scanned the empty closely. There was no sign of anyone out there, although that cosmos sense he had caught before was stronger now. Whoever it was had to be close to them.

Every shifting shadow out there seemed to have become an enemy now. Albiore just watched, tensed in anticipation as he waited for a clear target. Suddenly there was a scrap of metal on stone, a sound that caused both of them to jump. He looked around wildly, but he didn't see anything that could have made that sound. It hadn't stopped either, but it seemed to have settled into a rhythm of sorts, one that was growing louder and louder but he couldn't see the source of it.

"Where is that i_coming/i _from?" he growled softly to himself. He hadn't expected an answer, but he got one.

"…Above you!" Asterion's sudden shout startled him but he react on instinct, sending one chain lancing up into the darkness over his head. He felt the shock as it hit something and wound around it, heard a startled shout. That was all he needed. Without hesitating he yanked the chain down as hard as he could, jumping backwards just as something fell hard from the ceiling and slammed into the remains of the platform with a startled yell.

His jump had carried him to the top of the backdrop that surrounded the ruined altar, but even with the elevation he couldn't see what it was that had hit the ground. There was too much dust and debris in the air, the moonlight turning it into little more than a silver cloud. He tightened his hand around his chain as he caught a glimpse of a shadow within the cloud. His chain still hadn't come loose, he could yank his opponent out so that he and Asterion could get a shot on him…

Before the thought could even complete itself something dark came flying out the cloud. All Albiore got a glimpse of was something black and glittering coming at him before he barely managed to get his arms up in time to block it. The man slammed into him, thier momentum great enough to sending him and his new foe flying backwards. He slammed into the ground hard enough to shatter the marble flooring. He felt the pain as it broke, only his own Cloth saving him from any real injuries. Dimly he heard Asterion shout his name as he looked up into the eyes of his opponent.

They stared at each other over the blade that had slammed into his arm guards, but with the uncertain light all Albiore was able to tell was that his eyes were dark and he was wearing rough looking black armor. The man smirked a little and said something in a language that Aibiore couldn't identify as he pressed down harder on his blade. A faint hiss filled the air confusing the Cepheus Saint for a moment before he saw the faint glint of liquid along the blade. His eyes widened as he watched a droplet collect on the blade tip and start to fall.

Quickly he moved his head out its way and twisted so he could kick his opponent off him. As soon as he was free, Albiore rolled to his feet so he could inspect his armguards.

"Albiore!" Asterion landed next to him. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," he answered shortly, "but be careful. He's using a blade that's tipped with acid. He held up his own deeply scoured arm guard as proof. It went deeper than he had feared it would. Asterion's expression went grim when he saw it.

"Did he get any on you?" he asked.

"No, luckily it didn't have time to go all the way throu….look out!" A shadow had appeared out of the darkness behind Asterion. The other Saint jumped to the side as the dark figure's blade slammed into the floor where he had been standing moments before. Immediately Albiore turned to throw his chain at the man, but as he brought it up, it fell apart. He watched in compete and utter shock as several of the links that had been laying in the way of the man's attack broke, sending sections of the chain tumbling to the ground. Before they struck the ground, Asterion had attacked, landing a kick on their opponent that sent him flying back into the darkness.

"What are you doing?" he snapped.

"Just checking something," Albiore said quickly as he got to his feet, cursing himself for hesitating like that. "He managed to great one of my chains. I've only got my left one now."

"Well have to make do then," Asterion said as the sound of footsteps echoed from the shadows surrounding them. They traded glances, and then quickly placed themselves back to back. They couldn't afford to let themselves be ambushed now. Not against an opponent like this. They waited, but the man didn't seem to be in any hurry to attack them. He just seemed be prowling everywhere at once. Albiore could still sense his cosmo off to the left, but without a more definite location he wasn't going to be able to hit him with an attack. His senses couldn't tell him where he was, but maybe Asterion would have a better idea.

"Can you sense him at all?" he asked the other Saint quietly.

"Yes," was the flat response, "he's annoyed, and we confused him a litte. He didn't expect anyone like us to be here. It's worrying him too, since he's not supposed to be here either. If he gets caught he's going to get in trouble."

"Not suppose to be here?" Albiore repeated the words worriedly, "what does that mean?"

"I can't tell that yet," Asterion said. "If I can get him to face us I might get a clearer reading on him."

"Then we'll have to find a way to bring him out into the light," Albiore said firmly. "Any ideas?"

"No, not really," Asterion said. "I can keep track of him somewhat, but it's not going to be perfect. The most I can tell is that he's over there, somewhere," the hound Saint waved a hand toward the eastern area of the hall. "Did you manage to get a good look at him when you were fighting?"

"No," Albiore admitted, "I was busy trying to make sure I didn't get killed."

"I don't recognize the armor he's wearing at all," the other Saint shifted slightly, "and I didn't recognize the language either. Did you?"

"No," Albiore replied. "It sounded slightly familiar but I don't know where from…"

"Albiore!" Asterion hissed suddenly. "He's attacking!" Both of them tensed, and scanned the area in front of him, hoping to catch some glimpse of movement. It took all his willpower not to look behind him. He had to trust that area to Asterion, otherwise their opponent would be able to get the drop on them. After a moment he head Asterion curse, "It's from the side!"

Albiore dodged away as Asterion did, turning as he jumped. As he did so, he caught a blur that was darker than the rest of their surrounding. Immediately he moved forward and slammed his elbow down at it hard.

The feeling of impact and the scream that emerged were very satisfyingly. Their opponent slammed into the ground hard, although he quickly rolled to his feet. You could barely see him, he was really only visible as a darker shadow among the shadows. Albiore tensed for another attack, but suddenly Asterion was there, slamming a kick into the enemy that sent him flying back to hit the wall with a crack.

"Good shot," he said to his companion as the figure fell free from the wall and landed heavily on his hands and knees. Suddenly the door burst open behind them and men flooded the room, shouting about them putting their hands in the air. Albiore growled a cruse under his breath as he saw Gil at the head of them.

"What's going on?" Asterion asked, looking at him in alarm. "Didn't you tell him we wouldn't need any help?"

"I told him that we wouldn't need the police, but apparently he didn't listen!" Albiore glared at the group wondering if it was his own rusty use to the language that had lead to this misunderstanding, or if it was just Gil's own stubborn will. Suddenly Asterion swore.

"Albiore, he's getting away!"

"What?" Albiore turned around in time to see the man in black armor racing towards the gapping opening. It was too far for them to have a hope of reaching him in time, not with their speed. He threw a chain in his direction, but it clanged against the edge of the opening as he escaped through it.

"I have him!" Asterion yelled as he raced after the man. "You come as soon as you sort this out!"

"Do you have to take all the choice duties for yourself?" He shouted back as he turned to face the confused group coming towards him. Somehow, a fight against a poison user seemed to be the better of the two deals right about now.

~o~

The hole lead out into a wide alleyway. Apparently Gil had even had had the foresight to set a few officers at the mouth of the alley as well, but they were now laying in heaps as the dark figure of his opponent disappeared further into the alley ways. Asterion raced passed their downed forms, hoping that they were only unconscious, not dead. He didn't have time to check right now, not if he wanted to catch this guy. He needed answers from him, and he had to catch him for that to happen.

It had always been easier for him to pick up the actual thoughts of others if he was looking into someone's eyes. All he had to do was catch up to this guy, then he would be able to figure out what he had really been after and why. He rounded a corner and caught sight of movement just up above him. There was his target, just climbing up over the edge of a building. Asterion smirked and jumped up after him. He could still feel the guy's emotions although they were much harder to track out here. The blizzard of emotions that came from everyone else in the city was making it much harder for him to focus, and they kept nearly drowning out the emotions of his quarry. The only thing that kept making it possible to find him again was the fact that the attacks they had landed on him in the museum had hurt. A lot. It was a bitter taste in the back of his mouth that stood out even in the mass of humanity that was in the city.

As he vaulted over the to the roof, he noticed a dark splash near where he had landed. It looked like blood. His prey was bleeding, and pretty badly by the looks of things. They must have really hit him hard, or they had gotten lucky.

"You would think his armor would have protected him," the Hound Saint muttered to himself as he caught sight of a figure leaping to an adjoining roof and gave chase. He saw the figure stumble a little as he landed and smiled grimly as he raced faster.

The person he was chasing was obviously good, but he was injured and Asterion was not. Soon he started catching up to him and soon closed the gap.

"You should stop this," Asterion said as he landed close to him, causing the man to jump back away from him. There were lights around them now, and he was easier to see. His armor was pitch black and seemed to cling to him in rows of plates that had odd spike protrusions that came out of them. Parts of it were obviously cracked and broken, slightly paler skin showing through. His breathing was labored, and it took him several moments to get enough breath to spit what sounded like a curse at Asterion.

"You're only going to make yourself die faster," Asterion said out loud, although he didn't think the man could understand him, "just answer my questions and I might see about getting you some help."

Instead of answering him, the man howled and leapt at him. Asterion allowed himself a small grin. So he wanted to fight, did he? Fine. They were out in the open now, under the lights of the city and the moon. Now he could actually use his full power. So…he dodged.

It was almost funny watching the expression on this opponents face as he blurred into a ghost at vanished. "Was that supposed to hit me?" Asterion taunted as he sent out his ghosts to attack.

His Million Ghost attack was one of the favorite things he had ever come up with. It was mostly speed, using his own natural ability to move so fast he left behind after images, but he'd mixed it with a bit of illusion to make the images last longer and seem more real. To his opponent it appeared he had multiplied into hundreds of ghosts that seemed to blur and change position as he moved himself.

He couldn't use it in the museum and not just because it was a trick that fooled the eyes. He wasn't going to move this fast when he couldn't even see the terrain. Nearly breaking his own neck after he tripped because he didn't bother to check his footing wasn't something he wouldn't be able to live down. At least out here he had the flat expanse of the roof to work with.

With another battle cry, his opponent charged again, that acid sword of his swinging through another of the ghosts. It bit deep into the wood, sticking for a moment. It was a second that left an opening that Asterion was more than happy to exploit.

"You would watch your back!" he shouted as landed a kick that tossed the man against one of the metal covers on the roof. He hit with a clang, and lay stunned for a moment. Asterion took that second to pause in his own movements and rest. Yes, he had trained himself very had to make sure he could keep up the million ghost attack for a decent length of time but he didn't want to risk getting tired and losing his own concentration if he could help it.

The man spat blood and stood shakily. Asterion smirked and let himself blur into this copies again.

"You aren't as tough when you can't hide yourself in the shadows," he taunted. "So tell me, is that the only way you know how to fight? Like a coward?" Not that he thought his words were really getting through. They guy still didn't seem to understand a single word he was saying! He didn't bother with his usual tactics. What good would expending the energy to tell his opponent that you could read his mind do if he couldn't even understand you? It was a good way to unsettle an opponent when he faced them, but this time it was easier to just make sure he wasn't where his opponent was sure he was.

He could almost hear Masters Ahmet's voice in his head as he dodged around, 'If you're going to do this make sure you don't sit still, don't pause for a second. Never let up the attack.' He darted in several more times, landing blows that were more glancing than anything else. At least this target was smart enough to figure out how to guard. It made landing a serious blow much harder.

That wasn't all to the bad. They needed him alive to question him .

This was getting tedious though and they were wasting time. He had been hoping that Albiore would have caught up to him by now so they could restrain him easier, but now he would just have to do it himself. Knocking him over the head should do it.

"Time to finish this," he said aloud, speeding up just a little faster before dissolving the minor illusions in a flash of light and rushing into land a disabling blow.

At the exact same time something silver flashed out of nowhere, light sparking off it. Asterion's eyes widen as he saw recognized the chain but he was too far into his attack to change it's course. Both his and Albiore's attacks connected at that same time, the force from the other Saint's attack knocking the man back a bit just as his own blow hit. The change in position turned it from a disabling blow to a fatal one for their already injured opponent. "Damn it!" Asterion couldn't help growling as the man gurgled and fell. He landed lightly himself, then quickly reached out to check his pulse.

Albiore ran up beside him, muttering a curse. "That was my fault," he said. "I was trying to trip him up so we could restrain him. I should have paid more attention to what you were doing as well. If I had waited just a moment longer…"

"You can apologize later," Asterion snapped. "We have to deal with this now!" For some reason the man was still alive, but fading fast. They had to get as much information from him as they could before he was completely gone.

The Hound Saint took a deep breath then reached deep into the enemies mind. Pain overwhelmed him at first, pain and frustration and white hot anger that he thought would burn him for a moment, and all that overshadowed with a terror and desperation that almost sucked him in.

The 'almost' was only because the emotions were fading fast as the man's life force slipped away. Steeling himself, Asterion pushed deeper into his mind, searching for what he had been i_thinking/i_ not feeling It was hard, the thoughts themselves were scrambled now, but at last he found what he was looking for.

iThey had been a team, one sent here to searching for one of the artifacts. There had been four all total, he had been the weakest of them. Within moments of them coming into the museum their leader had known what they sought was not there. He would have felt it if it was so. They would have left immediately if he hadn't decided to do a search, just in case. The site of the museum display, a display that was a mockery to their gods, had sent their leader into such a rage they had to destroy it. They had made plans to leave after that, the others blaming him for the failure of this mission since coming here had been/i his iidea/i.

iHe had been the last to leave, which was why he had seen the announcement for the reopening of the museum when the others had not. It was why he had come, hoping desperately that he would be able to redeem himself in both the eyes of his teammates and in the eyes of…./i

Darkness welled up this, dragging the thoughts away. Asterion clutched desperately at them, but the slipped through his 'fingers' as he too was caught up in the darkness. It was if he was trapped in a current at see being pulled away from land. All light and feeling was gone, he couldn't breath, he couldn't see. Panic seized him as he thrashed, attempting to break free of the pull of death itself, but nothing he did seemed to make a difference. It had him as surely as it had his enemy,

"Asterion!" A hand shook his shoulder, snapping him back to the real world. Asterion's eyes snapped open and he gasped, his lungs aching from lack of air. "Asterion, are you all right?" Albiore was kneeling next to him a concerned look on his face. It took the hound Saint a few moments for his thoughts to sort themselves out, then he nodded.

"I'm fine," he said breathlessly, "thanks." He tried to get more of his breath back, mentally cursing himself for being so stupid. Death was too powerful a force for anyone, Saint or not, to fight. He shouldn't have tried to keep the man here. Just the echo of that emptiness that he had touched made him shiver. Next time, he might not be so lucky to get out of it.

"…Did you find anything?" Albiore asked quietly.

"Yes," Asterion said grimly, remember the last thought he had been able to grab before everything went under. "Sekhmet."

"What?"

"We have to get back to Sanctuary immediately," Asterion said as he slowly got to his feet. "The Pope has to know about this. iNow/i."


End file.

Saint Seiya, Adventure, Romance